


Childhood of the Illegitimate

by rad



Series: Destiny Arcs: Interlude - Regal Intrigue [2]
Category: Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne
Genre: F/M, Gen, Story contains all original characters with small cameos by Marlene and Eries.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-14
Packaged: 2017-11-03 16:24:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 53,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rad/pseuds/rad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The childhood of Esesra Amia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter I

Chapter I 

Chelsea was infinitely glad it was relatively easy to pretend she was pregnant. She and Delma simply had to buy maternity clothes and stuff them with pillows. All she had to do was remember to act pregnant. Because she usually forgot, the poor socialite had forced herself to remain home instead of going out. That wasn’t so bad either, the Amia’s servants were lovely people and enjoyed the excuse to sit and chatter with the lady of the house. Sometimes, Chelsea’s friends would come calling. Chelsea still had to keep up the appearance, but it was much easier in her own home; she could stay seated for the duration of most conversations; it was much easier to pretend pregnancy sitting than standing.

Chelsea was also infinitely grateful that she didn’t have to give birth. Having watched her two elder sisters – twice each – she was happy to be missing out on the pain. If she had gotten pregnant, Chelsea would of course have put up with the pain. But she and Delma had never been blessed by Teradosq with their own child; they would take the little miracle that had been offered to them.

What brought the largest smile to her face and the most joy to her heart where the gifts. Chelsea loved moseying through the baby room the day of the party before the gifts had been put away, the presents stacked in neat little groups. Clothes in one pile, toys in another, blankets and pillows in a third, bottles and baby china made up the fourth file. Chelsea held up a little pink and white girl’s dress from friends in Asturia and sighed. She truly hoped for a little girl. She would be happy with a little boy, of course; that would make Delma happy. She smiled at the plush sword and shield and their short, wooden counterparts, gifts from Delma’s brother’s family.

The Amia men were warriors going back for at least five generations. If they weren’t wielding weapons, they were crafting them. Or armor. Delma could barely remember one great-great-grandfather who had become a lawyer. The Amia women typically married into the men of high status and their male children followed in their mothers’ forefathers’ footsteps. Chelsea’s line, the Ciere, were more of the socialite class, the men as well as the women. The men served the traditional three years of basic training in the military but few remained there.

From the bottom of the stairs, one of the servants loudly announced that Delma had arrived home. Chelsea plodded down the stairs and welcomed her husband home. She didn’t mind the charade, but she would be overjoyed when it was done and over.

Chelsea couldn’t wait until she could hold their little child in her arms.

~*~

Tearing the brown paper from the box and opening it, Chelsea scoffed. Delma’s other brother proved yet again that he hadn’t married and needed to. “Eight months! Esesra has been here eight months! That’s plenty of time for him to have gotten the news that I ‘gave birth’ to a daughter! And yet he still sends wooden swords and stuffed horses bearing tournament regalia!”

Later that night, Delma chuckled at his youngest brother’s mistake. He laughed much less over two weeks later when his other two brothers sent in little boy gifts. They were married and had no excuse.

Delma’s brothers weren’t the only baby boy gift-givers the couple received from so late in the ‘afterbirth.’ Thankfully, none of them came from any of Chelsea’s family. She was sure she could never live through such embarrassment. A few of the baby boy gifts did come from a few of her male friends though. 

In the end, the baby girl gifts did outnumber the baby boy gifts. In usual Trellyxian tradition, the Amias kept all of the girl gifts. Returning any gift was frowned upon, it was rude and dishonorable. They kept some of the boy gifts, still hoping for their own someday. It was also acceptable to regift any unwanted gifts. The rest of the baby boy gifts were sold to an out-of-town baby’s toy shop. (None of their relatives or friends lived there.)

However, little Esesra developed a fondness for some of the little boy toys when she discovered them at age three…


	2. Chapter II

Chapter II

“That one looks like a turtle!”

“Horsie!”

“Cows go ‘mooo’!”

“I see a knight!”

The group of children groaned.

“Esesra, you _always_ see knights!” The rest grumbled in agreement.

“Nu uh! Sometimes I sees chariots, ‘n spears, ‘n swords, ‘n—!”

“Be quiet Esesra! We don’t care! We’re supposed to be finding animalses!”

“Knights ride horses, I think that’s close enough,” Princess Lynores defended Esesra.

“I don’t wanna play anymore if Princess Lynores is gonna let Esesra cheat _again_.” The group concurred.

“Well,” Esesra mumbled, “I don’t wanna play the cloud shapes game anymore anyway.” Pouting, the five-year-old stood and walked away. Nearing the guards at the courtyard’s entrance, Esesra brushed a tear from her eye. “C-could one of you please bring me to daddy’s office?” she asked. 

The guards smiled at her. “I’ll go fetch one of the nurses,” one of them replied.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he tossed over his shoulder, making his way down the hall.

Esesra slumped down the wall and sat on the floor. She sniffled, telling herself not to cry.

“Essie! Essie!” Princess Lynores tumbled through the archway. She slid smack dab into the opposite wall.

“Princess, are you alright?” the two remaining guards scurried over to the little heap of purple and red.

She giggled “’m ok.” She stuck a few fingers into her mouth, poking at her teeth.

Esesra hid a smile behind her hand. 

“I think I might’a knocked a tooth loose…” was Princess Lynores’ report.

The faces of the two guards fell, but then one smiled. “You’re just pretending, right your little majesty?”

Princess Lynores’ face erupted in a huge grin. Esesra couldn’t hold back her laughter. 

The other guard looked back and forth between the two girls. “You’re sure she’s fine?” he asked his comrade.

He nodded.

“You ok Essie?”

“I tolded you not to call me that!” Esesra’s smile betrayed her.

The guards chuckled. The third guard arrived with one of the nurses. 

“Essie, do ya still wanna go home?” Esesra shook her head no. “We’d like to go up to my playroom, please. Do dolls sound ok Essie?”

“Can some of them be knights?”

“Oh Essie, you know that’s always ok with me!”

Esesra couldn’t contain her laughter.


	3. Chapter III

Chapter III

He hated attending the parties; loathed them. He had to get dressed up – which wasn’t much compared to his wife and daughter. But he did despise having to retrieve his official’s sash and pounds of medals from the depths of his bureau. Not to mention dusting and polishing them. Then there was the packing. They would be gone for most of a month and therefore they had to pack a lot. He never allowed his wife to direct the servants to pack his things. Oh no, he had learned that lesson many years before.

The trip there and back was usually just fine. He used the time to rest as well as attempt to complete the ever-growing mountain of paperwork. The voyage was also wonderful time well-spent with this little family.

But above the medals and packing, his contempt lay with the dancing and dreary chatter at the parties. The dancing itself wasn’t too horrible; he did enjoy doing it with his wife after all. It was the fact that the dancing took up several hours of the evening. And the conversations? They couldn’t even be called that! More like political meetings or discussions of weather and agriculture. He didn’t even want to get started on that topic.

Delma Amia hated social parties.

He twirled one of the Caeli’s wives around the dance floor again. Why did royalty even have extravagant parties for their young children? For an older child, say nine or ten, it made a bit more sense. But at three years old? The child simply fell asleep or left to do that only an hour or two into the festivities!

Delma semi-understood the extravagance of parties for those old enough to partake in drinking and those that enjoyed dancing. Partly. His wife was of that persuasion. But adults actually knew and participated in the merriment of the evening. 

The dance ended and Delma went to look for Chelsea. His wife always knew just how to temper his dissocial moods. 

Contrary to her father’s feelings about the party, eight-year-old Esesra was enjoying herself. Still a few years shy of being allowed to attend the adult portion of the birthday party, she was grateful that at least she didn’t have to be stuck with the babies and nursemaids. Currently, she was playing dolls with Trellyx’s eldest princess, Lynores. As her father was Captain of the Guard, she often spent time with both of the Trellyx princesses. The youngest, two years younger than herself, had nodded off and been brought to bed about an hour ago.

Esesra’s eyes wandered the playroom, taking in any changes like she had heard her father mention at a training session a few weeks ago. Not much had changed in the playroom. About a dozen children sat or ran around the room in near-wild abandon. Three boys older than herself were pretending to be knights and were “dueling” with wooden swords. The younger sister of one of them had been bribed into playing the princess in need of rescuing. The rest of the children were either playing with dolls or blocks, save one. 

Over the past couple of parties that she could remember, Esesra had observed that Princess Marlene Erisha Aston liked to be left alone. The pretty blonde child usually read. She never talked to anyone, save the attendants. And only then to ask to use the facilities. The attendants in every country so far had learned that the girl enjoyed her privacy. With no reason to disturb her, they acquiesced.

Scowling a bit, Esesra turned back to the dolls. How was she to hone her observation skills if nothing of interest ever happened in the children’s play room? Esesra almost wished she were old enough to attend the parties in their entirety. She was sure they were much more entertaining for her developing skills to mature. 

Although in continuing that line of thought, Esesra wondered if it be true. Her father was always grousing about the parties. Her mother, on the other hand, always seemed to enjoy them, much to her father’s chagrin. She smiled an attempted to contain a giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Lynores asked.

“Nothing much,” Esesra responded. “Just Mother and Father’s differing opinions on the parties.”

“Oh. That again?”

She nodded. It was one of their favorite topics of discussion. Both of their parents felt the same way about the parties, but to different extents. The Queen loved social gatherings; it allowed her to dress up and talk nonstop. The King, however, knew that it was his duty to converse with the other guests. Lynores had once overheard her parents speaking and told Esesra that her father usually felt guilty about disliking the half-conversations he was subjected to. The two young girls spent the small remainder of their evening wondering what “half-conversations” were. That was one of their favorite discussion topics: Attempting to understand the adults.


	4. Chapter IV

Chapter IV

She ducked as the boy swung his weapon at her head. The children had long ago ruled that headshots were not allowed, yet Hoel rarely ever followed any of the few ground rules. Esesra was just thankful that the boy was just barely too young to receive lessons. No doubt he would break those rules as well as using training to his advantage. 

Of course, Esesra was being a bit hypocritical. At ten years old, her mother was dead against her playing with wooden swords and dirty little boys. She pulled her thoughts back to Hoel. She brought her sword up to block an attack on her stomach. He pulled away, gripped the sword with both hands and brought it up over his head.

Esesra recognized the wind up. Hoel had only ever attempted to use the technique about a million one times since the children had begun play-fighting. She mimicked his double-handed grip and tried to prepare for the blow.

Angling her sword point down near her right hip, she held the handle a few inches up and to the left of her opposite shoulder. Esesra used her right leg to ground as well as brace herself for the attack.

The harsh blow came as expected; Hoel almost never changed. Esesra pushed off with her right foot, forcing her hands out and to the side. At the same time she took two steps forward. The angle and movement of her sword sent Hoel tumbling to the ground in a heap.

He reached for his wooden sword but Esesra was faster. Firmly placing her foot atop his weapon, she swung her sword around and down, stopping a few inches above Hoel’s throat. She knew the dull point was just a touch too close for the play rules, but she felt justified in toeing that line. He had cheated after all. If this was the only revenge she was going to take – and it would be – Esesra considered the action fair. “Dead,” she pronounced.

Perhaps she always beat Hole in these imaginary duels because he always cheated and used the same tactics, Esesra mused. The small crowd of children applauded the fight while she removed her foot and offered her hand to the boy. He slapped it away, grabbed his sword, rolled over, and pushed himself up. Hoel back peddled, spat in the general direction of her feet, and tore off towards home, scattering children in his wake.

The children turned their attention back to Esesra, shock and awe at Hoel’s rude gesture. They were also anxious for her reaction. She disappointed them, again, merely shrugging her shoulders. ‘Let the cheating coward run.’

Hoel had spat at her a few times over the past few weeks. Too bad his attempt at a new “attack” wouldn’t rile her. She had been surprised, shocked, and hurt the first time. But she wouldn’t let it bother her. Why should she?

“Esesra Klairita Amia! Get in this house right now young lady!” Her mother’s piercing cry startled everyone. Esesra’s shoulders slumped at getting caught. She waved goodbye to her friends and trudged home.

“You are not too old for a spanking, Esesra Klairita,” her mother informed her. “Go wash up; Seamstress Dara is here for your sewing lesson.”

“Yes, Mother.” She went to the basin at the back of the kitchen and scrubbed at her face and hands. Drying with a nearby towel, Esesra wondered if her mother realized that sending her to lessons in dirty clothes really didn’t feel like a punishment to her. 

Esesra did know that appearing before Seamstress Dara in her dirty play clothes would most certainly not be her only punishment. Her parents liked the image of the father at the head of the household. Both of her parents would be doling out her punishment after dinner. As she tried to focus her mind on the needle and brightly colored threads and cloth, Esesra wondered what her punishment would be this time. She also wondered which one of her parents would ‘win’ the argument.

While she knew that both despised the situation, they had yet to argue the issue. Her mother wanted their only child, a girl, to grow into a well-mannered young woman, get married to a wonderful man, have children, and begin the cycle of life anew. To achieve this goal required years of lessons in sewing, etiquette, dance, and social skills. Some of her instructors were her mother’s friends; some had even been her mother’s own instructors, old and full of stories.

Her father was not completely in disagreement with her mother. He completely agreed that all Gaean little girls should grow up in this manner. But he also saw Esesra and her feelings in the scenario. He understood Esesra’s desire for adventure and swordfights. It was under his influence that Esesra had been allowed to play-fight with the neighborhood boys, for as long as she had as well as at all.

Not for the last time, she wished she had been born a boy.

Her father arrived home near the end of her lesson. He greeted the two of them and inquired as to the progress of Esesra’s training. He and the seamstress exchanged pleasantries while Esesra finished hemming a dress for one of her friend’s many dolls. She heard the faint catch in his voice that indicated he had noticed the cleanliness of her clothes, or lack thereof. After a few minutes, he left the room.

A short while later Seamstress Dara announced their session over. She complimented Esesra on her doll’s dress, pointing out a few errors and things she needed to improve. Esesra cleaned up the sewing supplies, walked her instructor to the door, and bid her good evening.

Deciding to attempt to bribe her mother, even a little bit, Esesra went back into the kitchen to retrieve the dinner dishes. She asked the least-busy cook to get the dishes from one of the out-of-reach cupboards. The cook nodded distractedly and Esesra waited patiently until she had a moment to spare. The young girl hauled the many dishes to the dining room in several trips, careful not to take too much and endanger her cargo.

Twenty minutes later she had the table set for four – Trellyxians often set their dinner tables for an unexpected guest. Esesra had taken great care to place each dish and piece of silverware in its proper place. She did pay attention to a few of her lessons, after all. 

Her mother walked into the dining room and her jaw dropped. “I was just about to call you… thank you for setting the table, dear. I appreciate your desire and willingness to help. And I see that you do absorb what some of your instructors are attempting to impart to you. Go wash up; I will fetch your father.”

Esesra smiled, thanked her mother, and ducked into the kitchen yet again. She washed quickly and went back to the dining room, taking her place at the table across from her mother. While they ate, her father spoke of the goings on of the palace guard and how one of his associates was sick. Her mother repeated what she had heard of the royal court at the clothier’s. 

And then her father asked the dreaded question, “And what did you do today, Esesra?”

Her mother gave her a significant look. It was always unnecessary; Esesra hadn’t tried to hide the truth since she was six. “I had a good sewing lesson with Seamstress Dara, played dolls with Jadale, and had a pretend fight with Hoel.”

Her father sighed. “We have had this discussion several times, Esesra. You are too old to play boys’ games anymore. You are ten years old, the proper age for a Trellyxian daughter to begin the journey to womanhood. As punishment, for the next three weeks you are forbidden to leave this house unless you are accompanying myself, your mother, or one of the servants. The bazaar and your friends’ homes are off-limits. In addition, with your newly acquired free time, you will assist the cooks and housekeepers with their respective duties. You will also aid your mother in whatever she asks of you.”

Her mother’s eyes widened at the length of the punishment, but she nodded her head in agreement with her husband. Esesra hung her head and said, “Yes Father.”

In their bedchamber later that evening, Chelsea prayed to Teradosq for her wayward, spirited daughter. As a child, she herself had loved the different coming of age stages. Nothing had excited her more than the lessons, the parties, and the fine dresses. Chelsea had enjoyed meeting men of varying ages; adored Delma’s courtship. She asked Teradosq to portion her emotions to Esesra. Her daughter was stubborn, but her heart was right. Her soul held no malice; if only Esesra would put her focus completely into her lessons, placing her childhood folly behind her.

~*~

“Esesra,” her father whispered as he tucked her in bed that night. “Who won your little sword fight?”


	5. Chapter V

Chapter V

“So you’re not going to hold my hand and skip and sing along the cobblestone anymore?”

Esesra hefted the bundle of papers in her hands and sped up, catching up to her waiting father. “No Father. I’m too old to do that now. I’m eleven, remember? Mother says the time for childish games is behind me.”

“I know you’re eleven now; the party last week hasn’t slipped my mind.” Delma hadn’t missed the slight note of resentment in his daughter’s voice. “So it’s ‘Mother’ and ‘Father’ now, hm?”

“Princess Lynores calls her parents ‘Mother’ and ‘Father.’”

“Princess Lynores is two years older than you are and her parents are the sovereigns of Trellyx. There is a big difference.”

Esesra shrugged. “I’m becoming an adult now, isn’t that what I’m supposed to call you?”

“Yes Essie dear.” Esesra shrieked _“Father!”_ at the nickname, causing him to laugh. He held up a hand before she could respond. “You are growing up. Your mother and I are very proud of you; you’re becoming a fine young lady.”

Esesra glared at her father. “I still hate that nickname.” She pouted and her father chuckled.

“You’ll still be my little girl though. I’m your father, I can call you that.”

Esesra let out a fake exasperated sigh, then a thoughtful look crossed her face. She boosted the stack of papers at her father. “These are getting heavy. Could you take them now, please?”

Delma smiled and took the papers. “Thank you for carrying them this far, I appreciate the help.” He tucked the paperwork under his arm. A small, warm hand slipped into his free one. He glanced down at his daughter in mild surprise.

Esesra smiled and squeezed his hand, then focused her eyes back on the cobblestone streets.

Delma repeated her actions.

Not all childhood things had to be left behind just yet.

~*~ 

“Esesra! I can’t believe you’re doing this!” Princess Airja called from below. Esesra kept climbing up the ladder. “I thought we agreed to stop this!”

“Keep your voice down!” Esesra hissed. She reached the top of the ladder and sat cross-legged on the roof. “No, _you_ decided that _you_ weren’t going to come up because you’re the princess and shouldn’t be sneaking around barracks and climbing roofs.”

“But Esesra… I don’t want you to get hurt or caught either!”

“Relax, I’ve done this lots of times, remember? Besides, you want to know how the – gag – cute boy does in the matches. I’ve got the perfect view up here.”

“Yes, but –”

“Besides, if you really didn’t want me to be up here, you’d go off to tell the guards instead of lecturing me and volunteering to keep watch!” Esesra crossed her arms, waiting for her friend to digest the ultimatum and make a decision.

“Oh, alright! But you better not get caught!”

Esesra rolled her eyes. “I won’t.” She turned away from Princess Airja and lay down on the roof, her feed just barely poking over the edge near the princess. “Can you hear me alright?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. I can see the ones that have fought and lost. Your boy isn’t among them. There’s the group that still has to fight…”

“He’s a knight! Essie, call him by his title!”

“Don’t call me Essie! And for the thousandth time, he’s not a knight! He hasn’t been knighted yet!”

Both girls rolled their eyes at the other.

“Ok, I see him! He’s not fighting yet.”

Princess Airja’s eyes lit up. “When will he fight?”

“I’m not sure. There’s one fight going on now, but the candidate looks really tired, I think it will be done soon. There are only two other boys standing with yours.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll tell you when yours is fighting.”

“Alright.”

It was nearly a half hour later before Esesra spoke again. “Princess Airja! It’s his turn.”

Princess Airja stopped pacing and turned, giving her friend her full attention.

“Oooh!”

“What? What?”

“He has to fight Kynn! Father said he’s very good. He has the speed of a gazelle.”

“Well, my knight will just have to be as fast as a cheetah then.”

Esesra sniggered.

“What?!”

“Cheetahs are fast, but only for a very short burst of time. Gazelles have a lot more endurance.”

“Oh. So what’s happening?”

“Kynn is going easy on him so far, he’s pounding your boy though. But your boy is keeping his footing; he’s not giving up any ground.”

“Is that a good thing? Doesn’t he have to win to become a knight?”

Esesra snorted. “Teradosq, no!”

“Essie, watch your tongue!” Princess Airja rebuked the other girl indignantly.

“Your boy is never going to beat Kynn in a duel; Kynn has _far_ too much training and experience to be beaten by an amateur.” 

“So what’s the point of the tournament then?”

“The point is to see if the candidates have any skill. Well, I guess a more accurate answer to that question is more than ‘if they have skill.’ How much skill and whether that skill can be honed or not and where to place the candidates is a better answer.”

“How do you know all of that?”

“Father mentioned it two years ago at tournament time.”

“Oh. How is my knight fairing?”

“I can’t tell if he’s doing really good or just ok. He’s landed a few hits and blocked some of Kynn’s. But he isn’t really holding his ground anymore; Kynn is forcing him back.”

“Oh no!” Princess Airja wailed.

“Don’t get your frills in a twist; it’s all part of the rules of the match. That’s how it’s _supposed_ to happen.”

“How do you think he’s doing? Where will he be placed?”

“Well, he got this far, and he’s doing decently well against Kynn.”

“Yes!”

“So he’s not going to be let go or sent to the foot soldiers. My guess is either the Valen or the palace guard. _Maybe_ , with some training, the Voli’yiir.”

“Squee!”

“I said maybe; I think he needs a lot of hard work and training before he gets that far.”

“Party pooper!” Princess Airja stuck out her tongue. “Is the fight over yet? How is he doing?”

“He landed another hit or two, but he did stop giving up ground. He – Wow!” 

“What?”

“He made a really good move! Kynn left an opening and he took it!”

“Did my knight win?”

“Of course not. In fact – there, yes! Kynn made the final move and called the match. In taking Kynn’s opening, your boy left himself wide open and very unguarded. Kynn used that and ended the match.”

“So what’s the result? Can you hear them?”

“Hold on… Father is nodding his head, I think he did alright. Father is sending him over to Gerard, Father’s second-in-command, I think that’s him… That’s a good sign, anyway.”

Princess Airja cheered and did a little dance. A few minutes later, she asked, “Esesra, are you coming down now?”

“I want to watch the last match; this last candidate looks a little familiar.”

“Esesra, we should go. I have another lesson soon and if I’m late they’ll ask why…”

“Don’t worry, I can make out the clock from here, you’ve still got most of an hour. I don’t think it will be a long match, either. He’s got an odd fighting style; he’s far too aggressive and he’s left himself massively unguarded. He’s far too reckless, too. He overreaches, he’s taking too many chances, and he seems to be relying on sheer dumb luck.”

“It’s been barely five minutes, how could you have possibly gleaned all of that in five minutes?”

“Well, all of his open spots are obvious; he has no firm foundation. And he doesn’t seem to be using any forms or styles.” Esesra anticipated Princess Airja’s next question, so she explained before the princess could interrupt. “He’s mostly striking randomly. He has little balance and I don’t think he’s following any set pattern of fighting. Like in dancing, when one partner does one thing, the other reacts. Only with fighting, both are trying to lead, to gain the upper hand. But there are still steps and rules. He’s not following the steps; he’s just attacking.”

“Well, that sounds utterly stupid.”

Esesra took several minutes to respond.

“Essie?”

“He’s so erratic that he’s doing most of the attacking while his Valen opponent can only block. Yes, it’s stupid and wrong, but apparently effective.”

“Oh, that’s dumb.”

“Yes. Oh! Oh no!”

“What? What happened?”

“He landed a hit, a real hit! In the tournaments, they’re not supposed to actually land real hits, not when they’re practicing with real swords! The Valen is bleeding.”

“That’s horrible!”

“It is. But the Valen isn’t hurt too badly. And since the rules of engagement have been broken, the Valen isn’t holding back any longer either. The candidate is being beaten – there! He’s down!” Esesra paused, watching as the situation unfolded. “I don’t believe it!”

“What?”

“The candidate is being sent away! I can hear Father yelling; he’s really angry! He’s pointing to the exit and keeping the candidate’s sword!”

“That’s considered very dishonorable, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Father’s telling him to leave now and to not enter the tournament, any of them, again. The placement tournaments are usually fought with the family swords on the part of the candidates. Having the sword, usually a family heirloom, taken in such a manner is immensely dishonorable. I think he’s been discharged. He’s finally leaving; he’s very angry. Alright Princess Airja, I’m coming down now.”

“Alright.”

The girls made their way to Princess Airja’s lesson, discussing the match along the way. Esesra gave more details about Princess Airja’s boy’s match. The princess asked more questions about the placement tournament; Esesra knew some of the answers and speculated about the unknown.

“So, the boy that lost his sword, he can’t ever enter the placement tournament again? He can’t ever be placed into the army’s foot soldiers or anything?”

Esesra shook her head. “No. Someone like him won’t do right; he won’t follow orders. He would do more harm than good. It’s better for him to be removed now than to have something really bad happen in the future.”

“Do you think your father will talk about it at home tonight?”

“Probably. He usually brags for a while about the tournaments; some of the servants are interested. Though he will probably be home late; I’ll have to ask one of the palace guards to take me home tonight.”

“Why can’t your father take you home?”

“He has to go to the discharged boy’s home and inform his parents of what has happened. The family’s sword has to be returned. I hope they have younger boys; such dishonor is hard to reconcile.”


	6. Chapter VI

Chapter VI

Esesra moaned inwardly as the other girls riffed through racks of dresses and material, chattering about the young men that were training for the upcoming placement tournament. The thirteen year old had been vastly excited the night before. Her father and mother had deemed her old enough to go dress shipping for Princess Lynores’ upcoming coa party on her own, without a servant or either parent as an escort. Her parents had determined that there would be enough older girls between Esesra’s friends and their elder siblings that an escort was unnecessary.

And if either or both of the princesses joined the shopping entourage, the Voli’yiir would be present.

Needless to say, with all of the girly babbling around her, Esesra’s excitement had waned. This was the fifth store and Esesra had found materials to make a new dress for the princess’ party at the second store they had been to. She had given her opinions to her friends on materials, dresses, and styles while attempting to keep up with the young men discussion. A few of the older girls were already being courted and the rest of the girls were fascinated by their stories.

Most of the girls were interested, anyway. Esesra really didn’t give one prayer to Teradosq about the opposite sex. She supposed she would in a few years. Right now, however, her friends’ twittering about courtship and men were giving her a headache.

Esesra almost wanted to go home… almost. She was enjoying her near-freedom too much for that.

Chandar pulled Esesra out of her thoughts by calling her name. 

“Hm?” Esesra responded.

The other girl twiddled her thumbs. “I… I would like to ask you if you would do me the honor of creating the seating arrangements and decoration for my coa party. I know that you’re friends with most of the young men and women that I am inviting and would be fantastic at placing them to avoid confrontation. I also love that you have an eye for balance and complement in decoration. I would be greatly honored if you would assist me with these preparations of my coa party.”

Esesra blinked, taken aback at the compliments. “I – I’ll have to speak with my parents to gain their permission; but yes, I would be honored to assist you in the preparations of your coa party.” By the end of her acceptance, Esesra was smiling. She had never been the closest of friends with Chandar, but they were friends and it would be Esesra’s pleasure to assist. She was a bit embarrassed, too, that Chandar thought she had those skills.

Chandar clapped her hands in excitement, dropping the formal act. “Great! You can come over tomorrow after lunch to plan with me and Mother!”

Esesra nodded, grinning. Chandar’s excitement was a bit contagious.

-CotI- 

After coming home from the shopping trip, Esesra spoke with her parents. As she had predicted, they were overjoyed with her new responsibilities and gave their permission. Esesra asked for paper for notes and both her parents had whisked her away to the stationary shop, just before closing time, and bought her a leather-bound journal, delicate flowers etched into the front and spine, in honor of the occasion.

The first meeting went very smoothly. Esesra simply officially met Chandar’s mother, was given the guest list, and the budget for the decorations. Esesra was shocked that not only did Chandar want her to decorate, but that she was also in charge of buying the actually decorations. Shocked, but very pleased that they considered her mature enough for such a responsibility. 

Esesra bent over her journal, scouring her notes from the meeting. She had even drawn a very rough sketch of the gala room and garden in order to plan table, guest, and decoration placements. She wrote down a few ideas for decoration.

“Esesra!” one of the servants called, breaking her concentration.

“Coming!” Esesra placed her journal and guest list down. She exited her room and made her way to the parlor. “Yes?”

The servant motioned to the royal page waiting. Esesra instantly adopted an air of formality. This wasn’t one of the usual pages that either of the princesses sent to the Amia household when they wanted her to come to the palace to play. Esesra bowed her head. Her mother was out visiting friends and her father was of course at the palace. “As acting mistress of the Amia household, I welcome you. Please, have a seat. May I offer you refreshment?”

The page remained standing but smiled. “You have been brought up well, little Amia. No, I won’t have any refreshment, thank you.” Esesra motioned to the servant that she could leave. “I am here to deliver an invitation; two invitations, actually.” Dipping his gloved hand into the inner pocket of his jacket, he retrieved a folded piece of paper and handed it to Esesra. 

She allowed herself a bare second to take in the royal seal – she was seeing it up close for the first time – before turning her attention back to the page. 

“The other invitation is verbal. Princesses Lynores and Airja request your presence later this afternoon to –” he paused, “to attend the procedure of fashion.” He tried to hide his distaste of the female tradition. 

Esesra hid a chuckle, but her eyes sparkled. The page winked. “Please inform the princesses that I would be delighted to join them, after gaining permission from one of my parents.”

It was the page’s turn for eyes to sparkle. “The royal family knows you girls too well; Delma has given his permission.”

Esesra almost squealed aloud. As distasteful as she found shopping, her best friends wanted her to join them in preparing for one of the biggest evens of their lives! And her father had already given permission! Esesra composed herself, though she didn’t stop a large grin from taking over her face. She bowed her head. “Please tell the princesses I would be honored to join them.”

“The carriage will arrive shortly after the evening meal.” A look of puzzlement crossed Esesra’s face: most shops closed an hour before the evening meal to allow shoppers and shopkeepers alike to be home to dine with their families. The page chuckled. “The king requested a few of the shops reopen for his daughters, to be allowed to shop without the interruption of other shoppers.”

‘Thus also allowing the Voli’yiir to better protect the princesses,’ the strategy part of Esesra’s mind guessed. “I will be ready,” she confirmed.

The page nodded. “It has been a pleasure conversing with you, little Amia. I bid you a good day. Enjoy your… adventure… with the princesses. Would you do me the favor of passing my good wishes to your father? I haven’t seen him in several months. We should get together for drinks soon.”

“I bid you a fine day as well, good sire. I will pass on your message to Father.” Esesra showed him the door and they traded goodbyes. After closing the door Esesra let out a breath and cheered.

-CotI-

The dress shopping excursion with the princesses was much less painful than the previous trip with her friends. There were no other crowds and the princesses were much less chattery. They also wanted Esesra’s opinion on everything. Esesra wondered when she had become the color coordinator expert. 

Scanning around the shop while the other girls rifled through clothes, something caught Esesra’s eye. She made her way through the store towards the back. Arriving at her destination, Esesra tugged at the corner of a piece of gold fabric. Upon closer inspection, the gold cloth had tiny flowers sewn into it. At her tug, the bit of fabric came loose from the pile. Esesra’s face fell when the piece of fabric was revealed to be a scrap; it was barley four by eight inches. 

“What did you find Essie?” Princess Airja asked, noticing that Esesra had moved away. Both princesses moved to stand by the other girl. “Oooh, that’s very pretty,” both girls cooed upon seeing the scrap. “Too bad there isn’t more if it, I would love to have something made from it.”

“It would go very well with your violet eyes, Lynores,” Esesra commented. The princesses voiced their agreement, lamented the lack of the gorgeous fabric, and began to walk away. Something clicked in Esesra’s mind’s eye. “Hey, Lynores. You remember the light blue…” Esesra tried hard to remember the name of the fabric. “… Azure! The azure fabric that you fell in love with at the second store, but didn’t know what you could match it with?”

“It was the first store, I think,” Airja mumbled, unsure.

Lynores’ eyes lit up. “Yes! What are you thinking, Esesra?”

Esesra led Lynores to the closest full-length mirror. “Hold this right here.” She placed the scrap cloth a few inches beneath Lynores’ neck. She eyeballed the princess for a moment, then turned and scanned the store. “Don’t move.”

“Esesra, what –?”

“Don’t move, I’ll be right back!” Esesra bounded about the store, pulling fabrics and lace of various colors into her arms. In her excitement she was a bit less cautions in her ‘gathering’ than she should have been. The result was that she left a bit of a mess in her wake. 

The shopkeeper frowned slightly. It was by far neater than when the usual amount of shoppers had been in the store. The young ladies had been very tidy thus far. He had expected better from the Amia daughter, despite her excitement.

Esesra returned to the princesses, dropping her load onto a nearby table. She picked up a bolt of silver-gray fabric from the pile and tossed the loose part of it over Lynores’ shoulder; it fell just over part of the gold scrap. “What was I thinking? This doesn’t match…” Esesra wound the fabric neatly around its wooden holder and placed it on a different table. She picked up a bolt of gold cloth next, muttering, “No, that’s too much gold. But maybe…” She placed the gold cloth off to the side of her pile. Purple was next and went about Lynores’ shoulders. “No, that’s not what I want either.” She wrapped up this cloth too. “I think…” The purple cloth joined the gold and she grabbed a light gray bolt of cloth as well as a white bolt of cloth. “Which do you girls prefer?” Light gray was the result.

The princesses had been mostly silent, but now they spoke up. “Esesra, have you gone mad?” one asked while the other exclaimed, “What are you doing, Esesra?”

Esesra paused; it registered that she may have gone overboard. Just a bit. But her face lit up. “Trust me, I have an idea. I just need to hammer out the edges.”

Both princesses did trust their friend, despite the fact that Esesra had never previously displayed knowledge for fashion designing. Neither girl wanted to disrupt Esesra’s inspiration by correcting her choice of metaphor, either. The two princesses made eye contact, not exactly sure what Esesra’s statement meant literally. Both girls shrugged. 

Esesra was too absorbed in her mental image to notice her friends’ silent conversation or her slip of the tongue. She unwound several yards of the light gray cloth, then wrapped it around Lynores. Beginning at her back, the cloth went around her torso once, then around one shoulder, around the other, and ending down the girl’s front to lie on the floor. 

Both princesses quirked their brows in puzzled amusement, but remained silent. The shopkeeper had an inkling of what the young Amia daughter was doing and went to the section-off portion of the store to find his seamstress. 

Esesra grabbed a pink bolt of cloth and laid it next to the light gray. “No.” Next she tried rose red. “Nope.” Her third choice, a dark purple, was deemed “Not what I was looking for either.” She took a few steps back from her pile of cloth and eyeballed her experiment. Then Esesra picked up a light purple bolt of cloth as well as a bolt of spring green and indigo. Holding the three next to Lynores in the light gray cloth, she asked the sisters which they preferred. 

The light purple was their answer. “Good” was Esesra’s only response. She placed the light purple down on the table and picked up a bolt of almost-azure clothe. She pulled a few yards from the holder. Leaving about a foot and a half as a tail, she wound the cloth twice around Lynores’ arm, over her shoulder, down the length of the side of Lynores’ body, framing the light gray, and mirrored the process for the other side of her body. The wooden holder was left to rest on the table. 

She then picked up the previously discarded light purple cloth, unwound a bit, and folded it in half to make it thinner. She tucked one end into the “sleeve” of almost-azure cloth and left a foot trailing, setting the bolt on the table. The end result was a simulation of light purple ‘liner’ in the almost-azure dangling sleeve. 

Esesra picked up two rolls of lace: one pink and thin, the other thick and a dark purple. “Purple,” both princesses chorused, guessing correctly that Esesra wanted their opinion. They grinned at each other as their friend set to work. Esesra tucked one end of the purple lace into the cloth at Lynores’ collarbone and pulled it across the top of the golden scrap. After tucking the lace into the other side of the ensemble, Esesra pulled it all the way down Lynores’ back and then around the “skirt” of light gray and almost-azure fabrics. 

The shopkeeper returned to the main part of the store with his seamstress right behind him. Both gapped at the reflection of the princess. The Amia daughter’s wrapping method was crude, to be sure. The seamstress was far more familiar with the early stages of a tailored dress; yet both could see clearly what the end result would be.

Esesra picked up a bolt of golden lace as well as a bolt of thick, pale white lace. She weighed them in her hands, eyes on her subject. Making her choice Esesra tucked the pale white lace under her elbow. Then a bit of the golden lace was pulled from the holder. Walking behind Lynores, Esesra caught sight of her audience and a smile lit up her face. “May I please borrow two pins?”

The seamstress nodded and both adults walked across the store and joined the girls by the mirror. The seamstress pulled two pins from the cushion tied to her wrist and handed them over. Esesra thanked her.

Kneeling on the floor behind the princess, Esesra pinned the end of the gold lace to the cloth about a foot off the floor, then around to the front of the dress. Standing, she ran the lace along the edge of the almost-azure ‘overcoat.’ The lace was tucked in at the neckline, then the process repeated on the other side. Esesra left the gold lace on the floor behind the princess. Taking the pale white lace from her elbow, Esesra strung it about Lynores’ neck, creating an edging between the gold scrap and the almost-azure cloth. 

“There!” Esesra exclaimed. “Finished. You could even wear your great-grandmother’s jewelry with it.”

Lynores gasped. “Esesra, you’re brilliant!” Airja hugged their friend, as Lynores was inhibited by the cloth bound around her. 

The shopkeeper and seamstress complimented Esesra’s ensemble as well; the seamstress taking notes of the cloth and lace. “I shall need someone to make an appointment to meet with me to purchase this other blue fabric that I have been informed of.” Esesra nodded her head; the two younger girls began freeing Lynores. “Princess, I will speak with you to create this masterpiece before you leave.” Lynores nodded and the seamstress bowed. 

Esesra and Airja finally pulled away the last of the fabric. Lynores pulled Esesra into a hug. “This dress will be gorgeous Esesra! I can’t wait for it to be finished!”

She let the princesses gab about the dress while she rolled up her fabrics. She clearly remembered where she had gotten each bolt and set about the store replacing them, tidying up as she went. She met the two princesses in their carriage a few minutes later; neither had realized that she wasn’t behind them.

The shopkeeper was impressed.

-CotI- 

Esesra hung the last bit of ribbon across the room, using a decorated metal pushpin to secure it to the wall. She stepped down from the step ladder she was using, folded it up, and brought it over to the door and leaned it against the wall. She would remove it from the room and place it in a hall closet later. 

Evaine huffed over. “I’ve finished putting the origami birds and flowers at all of the place settings,” she informed Esesra, breathing a little hard. 

Esesra beamed at the slightly older, stocky girl. “Thank you so much, Evaine. I appreciate you making the birds and flowers and for helping me set up.”

Evaine beamed. “You’re welcome! Thanks for asking me. See you at the party!” She waved and waddled away.

“I still can’t believe how you managed to have Evaine complete those origami shapes and have her help put them out on time, Esesra.” Denira commented from across the room. Esesra had asked her to create table and seat covers for Chandar’s coa party, as well as put them on the actual tables and seats. Esesra felt that the other girl’s sewing and creative skills made her the perfect candidate. “She has always been late for everything. She never turned in any of her literacy or writing or sewing assignments on time, either. How did you do it?”

Esesra grabbed her seating diagram and began setting out name cards as she answered. “The second that I knew that I wanted her origami birds and flowers for the party, I thought of that problem. So when I asked her to make them, I simply told her that she had to have them made a week before the party, instead of a few days.”

Denira paused in her work. “Wow. And getting her here on time to help set up?”

“Same thing; I asked her to come about an hour earlier than you and Alysen.” Alysen had already left about fifteen minutes ago, having completed the tasks Esesra had assigned her.

Denira was quiet, thinking. “But that means that you got here right after breakfast, if not earlier.”

Esesra nodded and shrugged. She had always been an early riser, much to the astonishment of her friends and mother. Her father had always enjoyed having company at breakfast. 

A servant came into the room a little over an hour later to announce the time. Denira stood up from her stool. Glancing around the room, she blanched slightly. “Esesra…” her voice wavered. Esesra looked up. “I’m – I’m not done with the seat covers. I still have about half a dozen tables to do and I’ll have to leave soon!”

Swiftly making calculations in her mind, Esesra frowned. Tucking her name cards and chart in her apron pocket, she hurried over to her friend. “I’ll help you finish the table covers, with both of us it will only take about ten minutes.” She picked up a table cover and flung it across the table. Denira grabbed the other end and both girls set about pinning the corners and attaching ribbons.

“What about the seat covers?”

“I’ll take care of them.”

The pair moved to the next table. “But will you have time? You still have to get ready yourself!”

“Don’t worry. My servants are coming here to help me prepare for the party; they’ll be here soon. They’ll help me finish.” They advanced to a third table. Denira opened her mouth to protest again but Esesra shook her head. “Don’t worry about me,” she repeated as she pinned on a bow. “I’ll be fine.”

“Alright,” Denira conceded.

The two girls finished placing the covers on the tables a few minutes later. “Do you know how I put the chair covers on and how I pin them?”

“Stop worrying, Denira, you’ll get wrinkles early!” The other girl stuck her tongue out. “I watched you do it earlier, I think I got it.”

“Well, alright then. I’ll see you later.” Denira made her way across the room. “Goodbye.”

“Bye,” Esesra answered, her attention on the seat covers.

-CotI-

“Esesra Amia, head of decorations. Daughter of Sir Delma Amia, Head of the Voli’yiir and Captain of the Guard, and Lady Chelsea Amia.” 

Esesra tried to hurry gracefully down the elaborate staircase and out of the center of attention. Finishing with the seat covers had taken a bit longer than she had hoped, even with the help of her servants. Her parents had arrived and been announced nearly thirty minutes prior. Esesra was not late to the party, per say, but she was later than planned. She smiled at the room upon reaching the bottom of the stairway and swiftly moved to her parents.

The people they had been talking to politely excused themselves, leaving gracious compliments about the décor over their shoulders. “Esesra, what happened to your hair?” her mother asked as her father greeted her warmly.

‘More like what didn’t happen to it,’ Esesra thought a bit sarcastically. She and her mother had planned a rather intricate hairstyle involving weaving and ribbons with the hair stylist a few weeks ago. 

“I think your hair looks lovely. I haven’t seen it down in years,” her father praised.

Esesra tried not to beam. “Denira had to leave before she was done covering the seats, so I finished. But then there wasn’t enough time for me to prepare… Yes. Mother, I did send a messenger to the hair stylist.” ‘How irresponsible do you think I am?’

Her mother let out a breath, puffing up her bangs. “I suppose it doesn’t hurt anything,” she admitted, letting the matter drop. “Let’s find our seats.”

Esesra led the way to their table, remembering the location from her chart.

The party began like the few other coa parties Esesra had attended, with the arrival and announcement of guests, who promptly milled around the room and attached garden or sat chatting. After the initial first guests arrived, the servants brought appetizers and punch to the tables. Guests were always given a window of an hour to an hour and a half to arrive before the true start of the evening; which was usually delayed anywhere from five minutes to an hour, depending on readiness of the young honored coa. 

The parents were always announced first, then any elder siblings and their spouses. After the elder family came the honored coa, amid their favorite song being played by an orchestra. The entire room would stand at this point, waiting to sit until the honored coa reached the head table and sat; applause following. A short speech of welcome, then dinner began. Dinner always consisted of soup, salad, entrée, and desserts; all were favorite dishes of the honored coa.

The chattering in the room only ceased completely during the honored family announcement, the honored coa descent, and the welcome speech. And when one was dancing. Shortly after dessert was finished was the time any attendant younger than fifteen was brought home by a servant. Unless the child was very nearly fifteen or had significantly aided in the party preparations. After the young had been sent off, the dancing began; led by the honored parents and then the honored coa. After that the dance floor became filled with people.

The coa parties were not just to celebrate the step into adulthood. Family, relatives, and friends were not the only attendees. Fine young gentleman, as well as a few slightly older gentleman, were also invited by the parents. The coa party was the stage for parents as well as the honored coa to find a suitable spouse. Some possible suitors weren’t even on the guest list, though such an occurrence was rare. The practice was acceptable as long as the uninvited introduced themselves to the parents formally, before introducing themselves to the honored coa. A Valen or two was usually employed to keep the peace, though typically no need for one actually arose. It was uncommon, but not rare, for gifts to be given. Gifts were never large or vastly expensive. 

Esesra blushed at the many compliments about her ‘grand’ and ‘splendid’ décor she received throughout the evening.

Esesra was excited with anticipation. This evening, for the first time in her life, she would stay a bit longer. Her parents had agreed that with her responsibility of decoration came the reward of staying later than usual. She was only allowed to stay for the husband-wife and father-daughter dances; then she would be brought home. At thirteen, her mother and father had deemed her still too young to continue attendance of the party.

Esesra still found this an exhilarating happening. Slowly, she was taking steps into adulthood. One step by one small step, but it was happening. She was growing up.

-CotI-

Princess Lynores’ coa party was much like Chandar’s party. There were a few major differences. The grandeur of … everything, for a start. Esesra had never seen golden silverware in her life. She felt the only other time she would see such a spectacle would be Princess Airja’s coa party. Everything was on a larger scale, as well. Gold was a prominent color in the room, which was the largest she had ever seen. Esesra wondered if her entire house could possibly fit within the room. The food and drink had a much wider variety, which suited the palate of all the foreign dignitaries gathered. There were far more guests invited; Esesra had never seen so many people in such different clothing styles before either.

Her father was almost an entirely different man for the princess’ coa party. For the full two weeks leading up to tonight he had come home a few hours after dinner each night. Once he hadn’t come home; he simply slept in his office at the palace. Her mother had been far more adamant than normal that Esesra’s appearance be perfect. As the close friend of both princesses, Esesra, her mother as well, had been invited to sit at the head table. 

Her father also wouldn’t be attending most of Princess Lynores’ coa party. He would be far too busy with his Head of the Voli’yiir and Captain of the Guard duties, especially with the added royalty in attendance. Her father would enter the party with his wife and daughter, disappear to do his duties, then reappear for the speech. The palace cooks already had instructions to have dinner prepared on-the-go for him. He would again appear to dance with his wife and daughter after the royal husband-wife and father-daughter dances. That would be the last Esesra would see of him; though the next morning at breakfast her mother, with stars in her eyes, would inform her daughter that her husband had requested their wedding song and danced with her. Her father’s duties didn’t end with Princess Lynores’ coa party, either. The visiting royals usually didn’t leave for several days.

Esesra’s excitement was several times that of Chandar’s coa party. She wouldn’t staying for much longer, but the time extension was enough. Just after her father-daughter dance, she shared a secret smile with Princess Airja, who managed to snag a dance with the young tournament contender they had watched in the match two years before. 

Esesra watched as Princess Lynores was twirled by an aqua-haired young boy about the princess’ own age. Esesra was fascinated by his clothes. They were barely passable as appropriate for the formal occasion. Her world cultures lesson popped into her head. Fanelia was the only country that held a lax view on clothing. So the young boy had to be… Prince Folken? Yes, that sounded right. Esesra’s eyes roved across the room, searching for Fanelia’s royal table. Sure enough, the young Queen Varie had her eyes on her eldest son. The little black-haired child nearly nodding off at the table would be the younger prince, Van. 

A young Voli’yiir approached their table, bowed, and requested the honor of a dance with the young Amia daughter. Esesra blushed and thanked him for his offer, but politely declined. She felt her mother smiling the well-bred smile of ‘she’s too young; away with you, scoundrel!’ beside her.

On her way out for home, a lovely woman with exceptionally beautiful blonde hair, wearing a gorgeous blue and white dress, stopped Esesra for a moment. “I’m a friend of your mother’s. I would like you to know,” she smiled sadly, “that your mother speaks very highly of you. She says you are growing into a fine young woman. I’m glad.”

Esesra nodded, said thank you, curtsied, and wished her a good evening. She didn’t know it, but the blonde woman watched her walk down the hall and round the corner.


	7. Chapter VII

Chapter VII

Esesra looked up from her current sewing project – a shawl for Princess Airja – as her mother… slammed the door and stomped into the parlor. “This is the third day that someone’s coinpurse has been stolen! I have no harsh words or ill feelings towards the man that Delma has in charge of the Valen, but the man either should train them better or hire different soldiers!” Her mother plopped down in the chair closest to the door.

Esesra put down her sewing and moved across the room to sit by her mother. One of the servants came into the room to see what the commotion was. “Would you bring my mother some chamomile tea please?” The servant nodded and left. Esesra put her arm around her mother, patting her shoulder. “What happened?”

Her mother took several deep breaths before answering. “There’s a thief in the marketplace. A scruffy little boy of twelve perhaps. This is the third day that he’s pilfered a lady’s coinpurse.” The servant arrived with the tea; her mother accepted it gratefully.

-CotI- 

Esesra repeated her mother’s story to her friends at tea a few days later. “That’s actually the seventh or eighth time he’s taken someone’s coinpurse,” one of them informed her.

Another confirmed, chiming in with “This is his third week thieving amongst the marketplace shoppers.”

“He attacked Tathal’s mother just last week and made off with her coinpurse. Gave Tathal’s little sister such a fright,” a third added.

Esesra joined the girls in vocalizing their hopes of the boy’s immanent capture. Esesra tucked the tidbits of gossip away in her mind for inspection another day.

-CotI- 

A week later, her father came home bellowing about the little marketplace brute. “That’s the twelfth incident! If he’s not caught by the end of the week, I’ll have to take over the investigation myself from Cobbe.” Her father spent most of dinner nearly frothing at the mouth over the situation. Esesra knew he would go to bed late that night, the better to let off his steam and keep his foul mood from passing to his wife. 

The next morning, Esesra snuck to the marketplace under the cover of having lunch at a friend’s house. Yvette lived close enough for Esesra to walk without an escort. She really did plan to attend lunch Yvette; she would simply create a story to explain her tardiness. Her cover story of lunch with friends had to have some truth to it or eventually her mother would discover her deceit. 

Before she had left home, Esesra had put a scarf over her head in an attempt to keep her identity hidden. Currently she was wandering the market stalls. None of the stories she’d heard had mentioned a specific area that the boy frequented.

She was just avoiding making eye contact with the attendant of the fruit stall her mother frequented when she heard a scream. Nearly all of the peoples’ heads simultaneously turned in the same direction towards the commotion. A scattered few people, Esesra among them, surreptitiously made their way to the end of the isle to observe. 

A woman a bit younger than Esesra’s mother had a wild, panicked look about her face. Clutching a five-year-old boy’s hand to her waist, she was pointing in the direction that the thief had run off in. A Valen rushed over and began asking the mother questions. A few of his comrades began questioning passersby.

Esesra removed herself from the marketplace before any of the Valen recognized her.

-CotI- 

At the end of the work week her father brought home all of the thieving reports. The boy was now being called the ‘youthful pickpocket.’ Earning a name meant that his thieving streak had gone on long enough for the general public at large to take notice. He was the youngest pickpocket on record.

Her father stayed up late for the next few days going over the reports, taking notes, and trying to find consistencies. Esesra really wanted to sneak into her father’s study and see the reports. She didn’t get a change during the nights her father stayed up. Finally he went to bed at a decent hour, the previous late nights taking their toll on him. Esesra went to bed at her normal hour but did not allow herself to fall asleep. 

Esesra kept herself awake by reading. She read by moonlight; a skill she had perfected many years ago. This was easier than trying to hide a candle; her parents had never caught her. She kept track of the time by the moon; checking its placement every few chapters of her short book. 

Three hours later, by her guess, when she was sure both parents and the servants had bedded down for the night, she crept from bed and down the hall to the study. She made her way to her father’s desk, being careful of the table and desk chair. A few stacks of paper and envelopes littered the desktop. The top-most folder had the current month’s date on it as well as ‘Youthful Thief’ written in her father’s handwriting.

Esesra was about to grasp the envelope when a thought struck her. One of the heroines in her books had suspected childish thievery on the part of her younger brother. She had placed a few hairs between the doors of her closet in the morning. Later that day the hairs were on the floor and her dolls gone. Esesra highly doubted her father had such a method for paperwork in his home study, but her father did have an eye for detail and a knack for noticing things out of place. Esesra noted exactly how the envelope was lying on top of the stack of papers.

The envelope had been dropped onto the stack, not placed. Esesra surmised this fact by the way the envelope was tilted just slightly to the left and not exactly centered to the papers beneath it. She took great care to attempt to memorize the exact position of the envelope. The upper right corner was exactly even with the letter ‘r’ in the word ‘messenger.’ Feeling confident enough in her memory – and sure that her father wouldn’t notice if it was off just a touch in the morning – Esesra picked up the envelope, opened it, and moved to the window to read better.

Her organized father had the reports filed by date, beginning with the first incident, Esesra learned immediately. An older mother with a seven-year-old daughter had had her coinpurse taken near a clothing stall. The second report was of a mother with a four-year old son at a fruit stall. The third near a meat stall with a one-year old. Esesra flipped through all of the reports, finally coming to a crude map the Valen head had attempted to make. Neither Cobbe nor her father had found a pattern. Next Esesra found several sheets of her father’s notes. He had interviewed the Valen that had written the reports, he had interviewed the mothers, the stall owners, and passersby who had volunteered to answer questions. He’d even asked a few children who were old enough to remember little facts.

Nothing.

Esesra inserted the paperwork back into the envelope and carefully replaced it back onto the stack of papers on her father’s desk. She tiptoed noiselessly down the hall to her room and crawled back into bed. Esesra rolled the information she had read in the reports around in her mind, wondering why she thought she, a fourteen-year-old girl, could figure how the puzzle pieces fit together when two qualified men couldn’t. She eventually fell asleep, the reports still tumbling about her mind.

Her eyes roved about the square, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells. There were millions of colors and different people and beastpeople all around her. Animals each made their distinct calls, merchants tempted buyers to their goods, and children ran giggling and yelling through the streets. The meat and fish stall spewed salting preservatives while the bakery and candy stores wafted sweetness and spice. 

She tripped over the edge of a cobblestone, but Momma’s hand held hers so she didn’t fall. Momma pulled her to the clothing stall to find new clothes for Best Dress Day.

A mother with her little boy walked by…

Oh, how he hated going to marketplace with Mommy! He had thrown such a tantrum before they’d left. He had cried and wailed, banged his little fists and kicked the servants. Mommy promised him a belting when Daddy arrived home after dinner. He stopped fighting then, but still cried. He wanted to stay home and play with his carved soldiers and wooden swords.

A tall woman with a sling across her chest passed him, a tiny little arm poked out from the sling.

She garbled silly baby noises from the warmth of the pink cloth. She had woken up in the Pink No-Form, against Milk-Giver. She had a vague recollection of being removed from Purple Hard-Box, but she hadn’t really woken up then. The noises had woken her up this time. Many different noises, all of which she did not know. Except Milk-Giver’s voice, though now it was not soft and gentle, but firm and full of many changes. She felt something brush against Milk-Giver, putting her off-balance for just a moment…

-CotI- 

Esesra peered carefully over the peak of the roof. Three days after her father had brought home the reports, she had gone to the marketplace with her mother. She had used the excursion to scope out the square to find a suitable, easy-to-access rooftop. From such a vantage point she hoped she could observe the pickpocket. Over the past two weeks, she had snuck out to her rooftop; it was hard to find a long enough cover story. The first time she had complained of feeling unwell and requested privacy. The second she had requested solitude to read – a happening that was not unusual. Today she had used a half-truth: her mother was out visiting with friends but had requested Esesra gather a few items for her. Esesra had told the servants she wanted to do some of her own shopping. The ruse had worked.

Esesra’s hiding place was a roof on the eastern side of the square, an attempt to keep the pre-noon sun out of her eyes. This was also the least busy side of the square; she was less likely to be spotted. The only reason she had chosen this specific roof was its ease of access: there was a rusty ladder at the back of the house. Though the instant it began creaking, Esesra would abandon her observation post. Falling and getting hurt would not bode well at home. Neither would a dirty dress; therefore she had tucked her skirts into the waistband of her outfit.

The first two days she saw nothing of interest. Today, she saw the pickpocket almost immediately: he was so dirty and scruffy that Esesra could pick him out easily from the roof. He pilfered three coinpurses from women before the fourth noticed him and sounded the alarm. The boy raced away before the Valen appeared; stall keepers and shoppers alike grabbed for the boy, but he was too quick. The boy dove down a street a few houses from Esesra’s roof and out of her line of sight. She found the spot where he had stolen from two and a half weeks ago. The boy had run in the same general direction both times.

-CotI-

Esesra dared to venture to her observation post four more times over the next three weeks. She saw the boy only once more and again he ran down the same side street to escape. She continued to read the reports her father brought home and any new notes and theories he penned. 

Each time something would tug at the back of her mind, but it was just out of reach. She could never grasp the half-formed thought and pull it to the front of her mind to make sense of it. Esesra wished she could talk to her father.

-CotI- 

“This has been going on for two months! The boy is too good to be working alone! He has to be involved in a gang somehow. He’s taken so much money… the citizens are truly beginning to fear the worst. Fewer and fewer are going to the market each week.”

Her father’s words chased themselves around her mind that night. They ran into each other and bumped against invisible walls. She couldn’t sleep. Sure that it as past midnight, Esesra slipped out of bed and down the hall into her father’s study.

Esesra read and reread the reports and her father’s notes four times before her eyelids became heavy. She almost had some of it memorized; she would read a sentence and sometimes know how it would end before she actually finished reading it. The words and stories began to bleed together: mother and child at the clothing stall… mother and son buying fish… daughter and mother speaking to a shopkeeper… a young boy begging for candy…

Esesra’s head snapped up just before she fell asleep on the floor in her father’s study. She flipped through the reports, eyes raking across the pages. Could she have found a pattern…?

 

Yes!

Esesra was sure it meant nothing. Neither her father nor Cobbe had seen the similarity. But it was there nonetheless. Each victim robbed had been a women; a mother who had brought a child to the marketplace with her.

Esesra swiftly shoved the papers back into the envelope and padded back to her room. After closing the door she fumbled around in the near-dark for a match, finally lighting a candle a few seconds later. Esesra quickly pulled out her quill, inkwell, and a bit of paper. Writing as fast and as silently as possible while still aiming for some form of legibility, Esesra copied down the sex and ages of the children. 

There were nearly twenty-five reports but not all of them went into the exact detail about the children. Esesra tallied up sex and ages. She found fifteen girls and six boys. The youngest of the children were infants, there were two girls and one boy reported being in baby slings. The eldest of the girls was twelve, but the eldest of the boys was only eight. Esesra found this strange, though she wasn’t sure why.

Esesra ran her eyes over her notes several times, screwed her eyes up, and read them again. Sighing, she put her father’s papers back in the envelope and blew out her candle. She tread back to her father’s study, replaced the envelope, and went back to her room and to bed. Esesra was unsure what the ages and sex had to do with the robberies, but it was now far too early in the morning for her to continue to think. 

-CotI-

Armed with the new information of sex and age, Esesra went to the marketplace as many times as possible with her mother or servants over the next two weeks. The shopping crowd had thinned drastically, but life had to go on, goods still had to be bought. Fewer and fewer children were brought along, Esesra noted.

Would that make the thief’s targets easier to spot?

In the seven times Esesra went to the marketplace the boy struck twice. Both were mothers with boys under seven. Each time the pickpocket ran in the same general direction Esesra had seen him go before.

The third week after Esesra’s revelation, she chanced a trip to her roof. No sooner had she gotten comfortable, a scream shattered the usual noises of the square. Esesra scanned the crowd to find the source. There! A mother with a small girl. Esesra watched the boy weave his way through people and stalls, headed directly to the street he had always taken before.

Esesra felt her father’s crude map pop before her eyes. She’d seen the map, been in the marketplace itself, and had a bird’s eye view from the roof several times. She quickly scanned the marketplace, calculating how long it would take the boy to arrive at his get-away street. 

She arrived at the mathematical conclusion and made her choice.

She scrambled toward the edge of the roof and practically flew down the ladder. Dashing around the corner of her look-out house, Esesra tore through the marketplace, weaving between people, beastpeople, and stalls. She rounded the corner in front of the boy’s exit street and turned her head to view the marketplace.

The boy was running straight at her!

Putting on a fearful face that wasn’t entirely a mask, Esesra leaned back against the stall, pretending to removed herself from the boy’s path. His face told Esesra that she hadn’t registered to him; she was merely another shopper removing herself from his path.

Esesra stuck her foot out in front of the boy.

She had fully expected the boy to trip and fall. She hadn’t prepared herself for the curve of his foot to catch against her shin. The boy’s running force pulled against Esesra and she found herself sprawled out on the cobblestone. A woman shrieked as Esesra spat dirt from her mouth.

She looked for the boy. He was a few feet from her, shaking his head. He began to push himself up when Esesra’s brain shoved something at her.

‘Don’t let him escape.’

Esesra heaved herself from the ground and dove for the boy. He was half-standing when she collided with him, hitting his legs. He tried to roll away but she grabbed at an ankle. 

“Stupid girl!”

She saw him pull his free leg up and her mind screamed **duck!** She twisted to the side, releasing him but avoiding his kick.

The boy picked himself up and began hobbling toward his exit street. Esesra spared half a second to wonder when he’d twisted his ankle. Then another thought crossed her mind: He was injured. Weak.

Esesra pushed against the cobblestone and hauled herself upright. Ignoring sore joints from hitting the ground twice, she pushed her body to move. Reaching out she grasped the boy’s arm and yanked.

Pulled off-balance, the boy toppled backward; he caught Esesra on the way down and pulled her with him. Landing hard on her butt and back, she coughed as a heavy weight hit her stomach and twisted. 

Coughing and opening her eyes, Esesra saw the boy sitting on top of her, one hand pulled behind his head. Her mind was clear enough to know he was going to hit her. It was too muddled to tell her to move.

The boy threw his fist, but he over-balanced and only hit a glancing blow to her cheek.

It stung and tears welled up in Esesra’s eyes. ‘I’ve been through so much already; I’m not going to start crying now.’ With a great heave, Esesra threw her own punch.

Taken completely by surprise, the boy didn’t try to dodge. Esesra landed a hit to his stomach and he rolled off her to the ground, shocked. Esesra sat up and coughed as Valen thundered behind her.

“Halt thief! You are under arrest!” Several spears pressed themselves too close for comfort to the boy. They left no wriggle room.

There were shouts of “Don’t hit the girl” and a few surprised cries of “Esesra Amia?”

One of the Valen helped her stand. Something dribbled over her lip and out the side of her mouth. Unconsciously, Esesra used her forearm to wipe it away. She glanced at the liquid.

Blood.

She was bleeding.

She blinked, coughed, and looked away. The Valen gave her a handkerchief. She dabbed at her lips and pulled it away. For a quick second she was fascinated as the thick, red liquid seeped into the cloth. She put it back to her mouth.

“Are you alright?” She nodded shakily. “What happened?”

The boy was being bound and taken away. She followed him with her eyes. Shrugging, Esesra pulled the handkerchief away from her mouth and spoke. “I – I came to the marketplace for cloth.” It was a half-truth. “I heard screams and then he was running towards me. He ran right past me, but somehow – our legs became tangled. I was pulled down. He –” her eyes welled up with tears only half-forced. She allowed them now, slightly for effect. “He hit me.” She touched her cheek. The skin was tight and tender. “I tried to get away from him, but we were so tangled together. He tried to run away, but he was limping. I began to call out for the Valen when he turned around and told me to – to shut up! He hit me again and pushed me down, then got on top of me and began hitting me repeatedly! I tried to hit back.” She looked at her shaking hand. “I guess… I guess I got lucky and he rolled off me.”

“Sh,” the Valen awkwardly attempted to soothe her.

Esesra sniffled and forced her tears to stop falling. She wiped her eyes and said, “I think I’m alright.”

“I’m going to ask that you come to headquarters with me. We’ll send messengers to your mother and Delma. They’ll come for you. Alright?”

Esesra nodded. 

She spent the next five minutes in the carriage to the Valen headquarters. Esesra caught her breath and settled down. After arriving at the headquarters, a higher level Valen wrote her testimony down; telling her at the end that she had acted bravely. (Esesra heard the inflection in his voice: stupid, but brave.) She spent the next half an hour on a bench across from the secretary, worrying. Her mother was going to skin her alive!

Chelsea Amia burst through the gilded double front doors, not-quite in hysterics. The first thing she saw was her daughter, sitting on a bench wrapped in a gray blanket near the secretary’s desk; Esesra sporting a bloody lip. “Esesra!” She flung herself upon her daughter, nearly hugging Esesra’s breath away.

“Mother –” Esesra coughed, untangling her trapped arms from the blanket.

“Everything is alright, Lady Amia.” The secretary’s tone of voice gave the idea that this was nothing new to her.

Chelsea took a good, long look at her daughter. “Your lip –!”

“Is just a scratch.” The Valen who had taken Esesra’s testimony commented as he rounded the corner. “It will heal in a few days’ time and won’t leave a mark on your daughter’s lovely face, I assure you.”

“What happened?”

The Valen repeated Esesra’s story, omitting one important fact: that Esesra had tried and succeeded in hitting the thief. The way he told it, the boy had accidentally run into Esesra and not realizing she was a girl in his frenzy to escape had attempted to hit his way out. He then rolled off her to continue his escape.

He did not look at Esesra to indicate why he was covering up the truth. Esesra had to admit she was thankful; she was avoiding a very angry mother. But what about her father, the Valen’s superior? She didn’t want him fired…

Her mother clutched her tighter when the Valen said that Chelsea had to sign a release form in another room. Without her daughter.

Before Chelsea could get a word out, the Valen spoke, “I understand, my lady. The tussle with the boy was completely random; she is not a target. But please also have faith in the Valen. She will be perfectly safe. I give you my word that I will stay with her. You’ll only be gone a moment or two.”

Chelsea grasped that she shouldn’t call into question the honor of the Valen. He worked indirectly for her husband and directly for the crown and the good of the people. Similar situations had happened before; according to Delma this was a standard procedure. Removing the child from the scene of the paper signing meant that no discrepancy was made over the testimony. Chelsea nodded and the secretary led her away. “I’ll be back darling,” she whispered comfortingly.

Esesra knew the words were meant to alleviate her fears of being without her mother after the ‘scare’ of the pickpocket incident. She also knew she didn’t need the comfort. She smiled and nodded anyway, for her mother’s sake.

When the two women were out of earshot, the Valen sat next to Esesra and leaned in conspiratorially. “I kept your mother in the dark to save your family a major headache and heated words. The report will reflect my story. I will be telling your father what you told me at the marketplace –” he didn’t sound like he disbelieved her “– and I will handle the Valen that spoke with you. You understand why I must tell your father the truth?”

Esesra nodded and began to ask why he was covering for her. He cut her off with his explanation. Esesra assumed it was because of their lack of time.

“Your father once told me of the fight you got into with a boy several years ago while playing with the princesses at the palace. He told me that you never told your mother because of the fit she would throw. And your father seemed just a little proud of you. But don’t tell your mother.”

Esesra nodded again, remembering the event with great clarity. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Quick, your mother is returning. At least pretend you’re a little frightened.” He winked.

Esesra smiled and curled up in the blanket and tried to appear frightened.

-CotI-

Her father brought home the final report three weeks later. The boy had been part of a gang. He had volunteered to deal after only a few days in prison. The Valen spent the next two and a half weeks hunting down the boy’s cohorts. The past couple of months had been a trial run. If successful, they would have begun hitting every marketplace in Trellyx. The thieves’ strategy had been mothers distracted by children. Girls were thought to be less observant and would put up a fuss, not a fight. Boys would be the opposite, but younger boys had been considered less of a threat.

Esesra found herself surprised that her theory had been correct.


	8. Chapter VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: In the real world, the one that I'm writing fanficton in, "coa" was my place-holder for "coming of age" party. In the end I didn't come up with a suitable replacement word; I stuck with "coa"!

Chapter VIII

Esesra puffed up her cheeks and blew the air out through her mouth. Her actions caused her bangs to fan out around her face. She glanced over at her mother _still_ talking animatedly with one of her friends and the head baker.

They were discussing the cake for her upcoming coa party.

Esesra heaved a sigh. She was already sick of hearing about the occasion after only two weeks; there was still seven more to go. Wasn’t this supposed to be a happy event?

Esesra had written up nearly all of her plans for the celebration two months ago. She had deliberately made them very, very simple so that when her mother wanted them to be overly grand, they could compromise. Esesra did little to argue with her mother; she knew this specific event was for the mother just as much as for the daughter.

~*~

A knock came at Delma’s half-open study door. He looked up, expecting his wife, but saw his daughter instead, bearing a bit of a somber face. He smiled and beckoned her in, putting his quill in the holder. “What can I do for you my dear?”

Esesra inhaled. “I would like to invite the princesses to my coa party, and by extension, the king and queen.” She paused. “I came to ask you if you think the king will allow the princesses to come and if their attendance would be too taxing on you or your guards.” She said the last part to Delma’s desk, rather than to him.

Delma saw her desire to have her friends attend one of the most important events of her life war with the want to not overburden himself or the king.

He couldn’t contain his smile. His little girl, not so little – was thinking of the safety and peace of mind of not only the royal family but of her father as well. He had heard many stories of daughters (and sons) getting too carried away with their coa parties. Those parents had been driven to exertion and the brink of insanity. He sent a prayer to Jichia and Teradosq for granting him this blessing.

Esesra saw the smile and looked at him hopefully.

“I know the king planned on you attending his daughters’ coa parties – and them yours – since that first day I brought you along to the palace to play with them.” Esesra’s face brightened. “And I already have rotation plans in mind. A few of my colleagues have already volunteered to head the operation to allow me my full enjoyment of your coa party; the king just has to give his approval. I’m expecting it later this week.”

Esesra’s entire being lit up and she joyfully flung herself at her father, gratitude flowing from her mouth.

Delma held her in his arms for a few minutes, then took her by the shoulders and looked her square in the eyes. “My wonderful daughter, you are becoming a fine woman. You have been on that path for some time. Soon you will be fifteen and take the first step into adulthood. I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

He had never seen his daughter’s eyes sparkle so much.

~*~

“Yes Mother, the guest list and seating arrangements are already finished. I just need the list of people you and Father would like to invite.”

“Your father will give you the list tonight at dinner. Are you sure you don’t want one of us to look it over? Or have your friends help you?”

Esesra reminded herself that stamping her foot and screaming at her mother was childish. She was four weeks from becoming an adult; such actions were left behind in her childhood. Her very early childhood. “Mother, I am grateful for your desire to help. However, as I already have some experience in the matter, I would appreciate it if you would trust my judgment and not have this discussion with me again.”

Esesra kept her voice respectful and even. She wouldn’t stomp her foot like a child, but she could put her foot down on the matter.

It did not escape Chelsea’s notice that her daughter was repeating a line her and her husband had said a handful of times over their daughter’s childhood. (They usually said “We are your parents and have experienced life. Respect our judgment. We will not have this discussion again.”) They had rarely needed to admonish their daughter in such a fashion and had never had to bring up the different topics again.

Chelsea felt her heart swell with pride. Her little girl was growing up! “Alright Esesra dear; I concede that your arrangements are fine and I will not pressure my opinions on you again.”

“Thank you Mother.”

~*~

Esesra asked Cathra to assist her in buying and wording the invitations. The girl may have been a few years Esesra’s junior, but she had a great eye for elegant but simple stationary and the best handwriting Esesra had ever seen (baring her mother’s). Being Chandar’s little sister, Cathra had been allowed to tag along when appropriate. Despite her maturity, she squealed and hugged Esesra around the neck when Esesra had put forth the request. Cathra had profusely apologized, but Esesra brushed it away, telling her it was just fine.

She had known for a year what she wanted by way of decoration. Evaine had outdone herself at Chandar’s coa party last year. Esesra would be asking her to make various flowers for her celebration. Esesra also wanted Denira to make her seat covers and help her with a few minor decorating tidbits that Esesra herself had not completely hammered out.

Though Esesra wished she could be the head of her decoration committee, such an event was frowned upon. Friends and associates were given tasks of heading and helping. Esesra knew they were all honored and that Denira would do a fine job of directing the decoration crew.

Esesra trusted her friends completely; she simply wanted to join them in their fun instead of her dress preparations.

~*~

Esesra, clad in a forest green silk with silver lace trimming, blocked out the crowds and focused on her father and her feet, just as her dance instructor had taught her. Her mother was dressed in a deep red, her father to match. All of her friends had done a magnificent job decorating her family’s party room and garden.

As a family friend and royalty in attendance, King Garath Treallic and then his fourteen-year-old son Prince Zatl claimed the next two dances. Esesra chose to sit down for a bit to catch her breath and calm her nerves. She also took the opportunity to watch the king and queen and her parents dance. Esesra had never seen her parents interact in such a way. Their unrestrained joy warmed Esesra right to her toes. The king and queen were a bit more refined, but still in a very celebratory mood. Esesra hoped that someday she would have such a relationship with her spouse.

She shook her head, clearing away such thoughts. Such a happening was still a year or more away. It would happen on its own time.

One of her male childhood friends, Bernil, asked her for the pleasure of the next dance. She complied. While sure he nor her parents thought of him as a future spouse, her first dance with an unrelated, non-royalty male should be with a friend. She appreciated his thoughtfulness. It was a good segue into the unknown. Two more childhood male friends claimed her fifth and sixth dances.

Esesra was becoming more and more comfortable with dancing with the opposite gender. An older gentleman, about five years her senior, requested the next dance. His name was on the tip of her tongue, but he introduced himself, saving Esesra the embarrassment of not remembering his name. While they danced, he told her of his life plan to become a lawyer.

After the first several dances with half-strangers and family friends’ sons, the night began to blur together. Her father claimed two more dances and all of her friends, including the princesses, made sure to snag her away from the gentleman for girl talk. Princess Lynores filled Esesra in on the suitors her father was entertaining. Esesra’s coa preparations had kept her out of that loop.

A few gentleman stood out in Esesra’s foggy recollection of her coa party the next day; more from eccentricity than potentiality. One, a year her junior, had flaming red hair and eight elder sisters. Another, twenty-two, made exotic jewelry for tourists. A third, only a few years older than herself, came from a middle-class family of sheep-shearers. The fourth and fifth were probably coa party partners, one being thirty-five and the other thirty-eight. They spoke little to Esesra and did nothing inappropriate, of which she was immensely grateful. Their age was a bit uncomfortable for her; however, knowing that older, unmarried gentleman did sometimes attend coa parties settled her unease.

The sixth and last gentleman that did not blur together with the rest appeared normal. What set him apart from everyone else was that he didn’t advertise himself. In contrast to every eligible male that danced or held a conversation with her, this one actually asked questions about Esesra herself. He let her do most of the talking.

The party began breaking up half-past midnight. Esesra and her parents spent nearly three-quarters of an hour bidding their guests goodbye and goodnight. Esesra looked around the near-empty party room, savoring her memories of stepping into adulthood. She went to bed tired but content.

She was an adult now.


	9. Chapter IX

Chapter IX

Two months after turning fifteen, Esesra was mostly enjoying being an adult. She no longer had a bedtime (though her parents hadn’t truly reinforced that rule since she was ten), she was free to go to the market or visit her friends, she attended the entirety of parties, and her parents praised her nearly every day. What kept her from full enjoyment of adulthood was the expectation of finding a spouse via suitors.

Esesra had met with at least five young men since her coa party; all of them she had been introduced to at said celebration. The outings consisted of meals and mostly weather-related small talk; sometimes a visit to the theater was involved. Esesra found them all – outings and suitors – awkward and rather boring. How were women; young, inexperienced, and shy around the opposite sex, who were usually also inexperienced and dreary; supposed to find their lifepartner via such a process?

What made the next year of Esesra’s life bearable was the offer of becoming a personal handmaiden to the princesses, primarily Princess Airja. Esesra leapt at the chance. A few mutual friends were also given the offer. Training began three and a half months after Esesra’s coa party and lasted for nearly a month. The training was simply a glorified version of what the girls – women – had already been taught about proper etiquette. There was far more emphasis on respect and decorum this time through. Esesra and her friends also learned how to aid the princesses in such daily activities as choosing clothes and accessories, dressing, remembering appointments, and to keep their eyes and ears open to their surroundings.

There was more than gossiping and fashion in being a handmaiden, their instructor informed them. An older lady who was still a handmaiden to the queen, she carried herself with quiet authority and grace. All of the girls – young women – listened to her eagerly. A handmaiden would also travel with the princesses to foreign countries, present a good image of Trellyx, and protect their royalty.

Protecting the princesses did not jut include her royal image and that of the court and country. While such situations were rare, handmaidens also vowed to protect the princesses in physicality as well. Much like a guard or knight, if the worst happened, handmaidens placed themselves between the princesses and danger.

Most of the young women found this a bit frightening. Of course, such an event is rare. Guards and knights are employed for such events. Their fright died down and their twittering returned to handmaidenship and gossip.

~*~

Esesra’s handmaiden test results – and subsequent promotion – shocked her and her mother. Her father not so much. He made the rather brash comment that some parts of handmaidenship were alike the protective instincts of a knight. He came to the conclusion that Esesra probably picked up a thing or two here or there from himself. Not much, he quickly covered his statement from his wife; things like always keep an eye on your surroundings and such a deeply-rooted sense of loyalty.

Esesra would never let on how close to the truth he was.

She had scored perfectly on her handmaiden tests. She had done so well that her superiors had been a bit shocked: no one had ever done so well before. The tests were simple: the young women were given something to read or a room to look at and a short amount of time to do it in. They were then asked observation questions that tested their surveillance abilities. A combination of her father’s career (and her interest in knighthood) and her childhood reading gave Esesra the ability to do so well.

Esesra had treated the tests as real situations (or as real as her instructors could make them). She had taken the elderly handmaiden’s advice to not treat the tests lightly. The other young women later complained of not having enough time to properly read the documents or inspect the rooms. Esesra had pitted herself against the timing of the tests; reading as fast as she could while still absorbing information, scouring through the room swiftly while making mental notes of items and situational possibilities. She had ideas as she read and observed, not as she was asked questions. Esesra was therefore able to give firm, feasible answers instead of fumbling.

While her father was only a little surprised at her immediate elevated position (“It runs in the family!”), her mother was immensely shocked. Having scored higher than the test supposedly allowed, Esesra was to become the head handmaiden of both princess’ ladies-in-waiting and those that served the queen. It wasn’t much more work – mostly paperwork – Esesra would be in charge of scheduling, replacing a sick handmaiden, the liaison between handmaidens and servants or laundress and on rare occasions the king, and should a drastic occasion occur, Esesra would take charge of the women involved.

It was that last responsibility that made Esesra the perfect candidate. Despite her test results, she felt terrible that she, a new, young handmaiden with no experience, was outing the current woman holding that position. Certainly the handmaiden already in that position deserved to keep it?

Esesra met with the woman, Rita, after the promotion had been announced. Rita was actually fine to be giving up her ‘stressful’ (Esesra heard her distaste for the paperwork) position. She would miss the pay, but she was getting a sizable “thank you” parting gift. Rita was also appreciative of being relieved of the burden of “in the rare even of true danger.” Besides, she would continue to be a handmaiden to the queen. Now she just had more free time and less stress.

After the meeting, Esesra forced down feelings of superiority and that she deserved this station. Rita didn’t want the position. Rita didn’t qualify for the position, a nagging voice told Esesra. She beat back that voice. Rita had been the best choice at the time or she wouldn’t have been given it. The best option at the time was chosen, that’s how life functioned. 

‘Until something better came along.’

Esesra kicked those thoughts away.

~*~

Being a lady-in-waiting to the princesses had its perks. Esesra was paid to follow Princess Airja around the palace, help her with clothes and jewelry, keep the princesses and handmaidens entertained, and make sure anything regarding the ladies-in-waiting went smoothly. She had been doing most of that since she was four and her father had come home with the information that the princesses wanted a playmate. It was easy to enjoy the perks of her station – the gossiping and talks of fashion and suitors were relatively easy to ignore. Esesra did not quite wish for something drastic to happen.

Her post was not all fun and sunshine, however. Headaches were caused when a handmaiden was late or didn’t show up. Esesra hated putting her foot down in such a manner to her friends. Childishly, she felt like she was being mean. But she wouldn’t let that feeling, or her bluntness to her friends, interfere with her responsibilities.

Another pro of her station was that Esesra could make herself seem too busy for suitors. Her mother pestered her on a weekly basis about suitors, but Esesra waded through to survival with years of practice. 

The negative of being friends with the princesses and their closest friend meant that the princesses constantly teased Esesra and tried to set her up with some of their suitors’ relatives or those in the court. 

Esesra stifled a yawn and tried to keep her eyes open. Currently, she was attending the favorite play of the courtier of a duke the king was entertaining for Lynores. 

She understood that by the description the princesses had given to her, Lynores thought Everet a suitable match for Esesra. He was subtly handsome, soft-spoken, interested in becoming a banker, and didn’t speak endlessly of himself or his family’s business and wealth. 

Unfortunately, Everet hardly spoke at all. While nearly all Trellyxian women (nearly all Gaean women, Esesra was sure) gossiped and were by nature talkative with each other, they were also taught their place. Proper ladies did not chatter endlessly outside of their tea parties and most certainly not in front of a gentleman caller. On the opposite end was Esesra, who preferred to listen more than talk. Her greatest goal within speech was to have meaningful conversations where both participants spoke their minds as well as played off the other person’s statements.

Too bad women weren’t allowed to even have a mind in society.

Even worse was that Everet hardly seemed to speak at all. He was so soft spoken that Esesra had to ask him to speak up nearly every time he opened his mouth. She contemplated that maybe asking him to shout would result in him speaking just above a whisper. He also never said much of interest. Esesra had found previous suitors a bit boring; Everet was many times more.

Most hopeful suitors received long, eloquent letters of permission or declination of courtship. Usually hope was given to find a better match; the writer saying something that whittled done to “it’s not you, it’s me.” Esesra sent Everet a short note that’s polite but hidden message was “good luck.” 

She never informed her mother of the whole situation.

~*~

Over the course of just over a year after her coa, Esesra made outings with nearly twenty possible suitors. That number didn’t include any impossible. Only a handful merited a second outing and only two or three were given the honor of a third.

Rumors began to form themselves among the youngest of Trellyx’s socialites and eligible bachelors about the impossible-to-please Amia daughter.


	10. Chapter X

Chapter X

A sixteen-and-three-quarters year old Esesra had no indication that today would be a drastically different day for her. She was given no clue how much today’s events would impact her future. It began normal enough.

Esesra had become comfortable in her head of the handmaidens position in the past year. She was allowed to avoid a massive headache by Yvette coming in to cover for Brianna for the day. (Esesra hated it when her friends found whatever decent excuse to skip a shift; holes were a pain.) She was even more delighted when Yvette told her that she had been contacted by Brianna the night before to cover her next day’s shift because Brianna discovered she was sick. (Esesra despised it even more when her friends didn’t inform her of events but let her run around like a headless chicken the next morning.)

Breakfast between the princesses and their joined group of ladies-in-waiting was perfectly normal. Helping Airja choose an outfit and jewelry and aiding her in putting on said dress and accessories went in a normal fashion. A trip through the palace and a visit to the gardens was normal. The princesses’ lunch with their father, mother, and dignitaries with the handmaidens eating in a next-door room was normal.

Most of Esesra’s day was perfectly normal. 

The lateness of the two Voli’yiir meant to escort the small entourage of a few handmaidens, three servants, and two princesses to the market place was most definitely not normal.

Her father always boasted about the promptness that was hammered into the Voli’yiir.

“Aleisha, would you be so kind as to find a page and send him to the Voli’yiir barracks and discover what is keeping the princess’ Voli’yiir escorts? And while you’re at it, find another to send the palace guards to search the grounds; perhaps the Voli’yiir were out for a walk and simply lost track of the time.”

Aleisha replied in the affirmative and left. The rest of the handmaidens began twittering, speculating on why the Voli’yiir were late. It would be fodder for gossip for days.

Esesra rolled her eyes. She disliked the fact that the ladies-in-waiting would chatter endlessly about the silliest little thing. Even more Esesra disliked the roundabout way in which they had to locate the missing Voli’yiir. Esesra wanted to have gone straight to the barracks herself, but the only women allowed there were the cooks and laundresses. Several someones would surely have a fit and the handmaidens would have a juicy new bit to gossip about if Esesra went to the barracks. She hadn’t gone to find the page herself because she felt that as head handmaiden, it was her responsibility to send someone while she waited with the princesses.

They waited. Aleisha returned. And they waited. And waited. The handful of young ladies could only gossip and speculate for so long before they began going in circles. Eventually everyone moved to sit on a collection of benches lining the hallway. Esesra had taken to standing in front of the window; she enjoyed the small of the fresh air. 

Nearly an hour passed before the first page returned bearing news of the search of the barracks. Twenty minutes later, a second page huffed into view. The palace grounds had been searched as well; no sign of the Voli’yiir escorts. 

The princesses debated requesting a replacement Voli’yiir escort. They reached Esesra’s thoughts on that decision only a few seconds after Esesra had come to the same conclusion herself. Any other Voli’yiir in the city had their orders; the whims of the princesses wasn’t enough to demand they be pulled from their duties. 

“We could find a palace guard or two to escort us,” Lynores suggested. “There’s bound to be one or ten available.

“Or,” Airja began mischievously, “we could go without an escort, just the nine of us.”

Lynores looked about ready to disagree when Lisabeth vocalized that with five handmaidens and three servants, wouldn’t the princesses be just fine? What could happen in the marketplace anyway, with K’Shied citizenry all around? 

Esesra’s objection was on the tip of her tongue when Lynores gave in to her sister’s suggestion. Esesra kept her opinions to herself. She didn’t want to be a wet blanket. Airja was right, what could go wrong?

The princesses changed into less obvious dresses in record time, Esesra noted, and the entourage was off.

Esesra’s unease slipped away during the shopping trip. The girls – women – were too old to hover at toy stores, but they were the perfect age and had the perfect audience to linger in clothing and jewelry stores. Even the stationary store got its fair share of attention. Everyone had to try on something at each store.

Esesra participated little in the gabbing and entertainment of clothes. She acquiesced a few times under the other ladies’ hard persistence. She felt that it was her duty to have someone be level-headed and attentive in the situation. Their Voli’yiir escorts hadn’t been available to do their job; Esesra felt the responsibility fell to her to pick up the slack.

Their plans had already included dinner out on the town, so when hunger pangs began to make themselves known, the servants were sent back to the castle with the day’s purchases and the entourage marched to a little tavern on the edge of the city. Tradition held that if royalty wanted to dine away from the palace, the dined there. It was also easier to order such a large amount of food as well as seat six people, two of them royalty. (One of the handmaidens had asked to duck out a bit early. Lynores had continued her generosity.)

Dining at Cordiella’s made Esesra feel secure. The tavern knew how to treat its royalty and hide its most wealthy patrons well. They also had booths in the back that were large enough to accommodate six young women and a shopping bag or two.

Right before dessert, two more handmaidens requested to go home; they lived nearby, why return to the palace only to turn right around and come back again? Both princesses complied. Esesra was beginning to have a warning bell go off in her head.

When Lynores asked for someone to join her in the facilities, Esesra was quick to volunteer. She locked the main door to the room behind them, grateful that the washroom was already empty. “Your highness…” she began as Lynores washed her hands in the basin.

The princess sighed. “I hate it when you begin like that. It means you’re going to say something I probably won’t like for the sake of our safety.” The words were more of habit than spite or true annoyance.

Having gotten her attention, Esesra dropped the formalities. “I would like to send a Cordiella’s staff member to fetch the nearest Valen to escort us back to the palace.”

“It is getting late,” Lynores supplied before Esesra could say it. The younger girl nodded. The princess let out a breath. “I suppose our day has come to a close. Thank you for letting us have our fun, Esesra.” She smiled at her friend.

Esesra faked her return smile and happy nod. ‘Thank me when you and Airja are safely back at the palace.’

She wouldn’t get in much trouble if the princesses were discovered to have left the castle without the proper escort. It was frowned upon, but not rare. It wasn’t truly Esesra’s responsibility and the princesses made the decision to leave without their guards. Esesra wasn’t worried about anything the king or queen would say to her – the princesses would get the scolding. Her father might say something in passing, but subjects did what their superiors wanted of them.

Esesra’s instincts nagged at her, taking the form of a dead weight in her chest. Something wasn’t right. Esesra would worry much less when the princesses were safely back in the palace.

A Cordiella’s worker was sent, a Valen found. Of course he was willing to escort the princesses back to the castle! Esesra could see in his eyes that he wondered why the princesses did not already have a guard. He was too polite to speak these concerns. At the door, the two handmaidens bid goodnight and went in the opposite direction toward their homes. The last remaining handmaiden grabbed her shopping bag and the four young women entered the night.

In a dark alley several minutes later, Esesra felt someone come up behind her. Before she could react an arm went across her shoulders and a hand holding a cloth covered her mouth. As she attempted to struggle, her attacker pulled her against him.

A second before Esesra realized the cloth contained a sleeping herb and her body reacted thusly, her mind registered three things: the princesses were in the same predicament, the Valen was being hit about the head with a cane, and Lisabeth was already passed out in the arms of a masked attacker.

Esesra was halfway into the thought of ‘what went wrong’ when blackness claimed her.

~*~

Slowly coming back to consciousness, Esesra tried desperately to remember why beging asleep at such an early hour (or so it felt) wasn’t right. She heard male voices and drifted further toward consciousness. Something was off about what she was hearing…

As Esesra regained full consciousness, she remembered the missing Voli’yiir, the shopping trip, dinner at Cordiella’s, and one Valen escorting them back to the palace. If she hadn’t already been fully awake, remembering the attack would have brought her there. The princesses had been kidnapped!

Esesra forced herself not to move. If the men were speaking, that meant that they thought that their prisoners were still asleep. If she didn’t rouse their suspicions, perhaps she could hear something useful.

Esesra kept her eyes closed but her ears wide open. She heard statements along the lines of “when we’re rich” and “with the money…” Keeping her ears on the conversation, Esesra used her mind to process her surroundings with her body. She was lying on her side, hands bound behind her back. She felt warm skin at her hands and assumed that either one of the princesses or Lisabeth was behind her.

Whatever she was lying on gave her a few clues to the situation. It had to be a wagon, for Esesra and theoretically the princesses and Lisabeth to all be in it. It smelled strongly of vegetables. The wagon had to be covered; Esesra guessed this according to the darkness around her. It seemed too dark to be in the moonlight and the level of the darkness never wavered to indicate trees. They must have been out of the city by now, the light never wavered to indicate bridges, either. The semi-smoothness of the ride, she guessed, indicated a well-traveled path, not cobblestone or a road so disused there were rocks.

Their kidnappers had quickly left the capital and were not slowing their pace.

The covered wagon and the swift pace did not surprise Esesra, but they did alarm her.

How long would it be until the princesses were missed? Did their captors bind the Valen and leave him, or hide him? Esesra was sure that bringing him along would hinder things for their kidnappers. Esesra knew that the princesses probably wouldn’t be missed until the morning; Lisabeth and Esesra were the only remaining handmaidens on duty until the eighth hour. One handmaiden was kept on-call for the night, but she would never have a clue. 

After doing a bit of paperwork, Esesra herself usually arrived home around the ninth hour. She usually went straight to her room and did not see her parents until the next morning. The other handmaiden on duty with Esesra usually left shortly after the eighth hour, arriving home shortly thereafter. That left Lisabeth’s absence at home to alert anyone to the missing status of the princesses. 

They had left Cordiella’s shortly before the seventh hour. The kidnappers would have over two hours ahead of any search party. And Lisabeth’s family might not usually see her immediately either. It was possible that the young women’s absence wouldn’t be missed until the next morning.

Questions such as ‘did anyone see anything, would they report it’ and ‘how far did we travel, how fast are we going’ raced themselves around her head. Esesra forced them to stand still and shut up. She hadn’t heard their captors say anything useful; they’d stopped talking as far as she could tell. Esesra had been too wrapped up in her thoughts to pay proper attention. She mentally berated herself for her mistake. ‘Time to make up for lost time.’

Esesra opened her eyes.

As she had suspected she was in a covered wagon, the kind normally used by farmers to transport crops or other goods to the marketplace. She could see out the back and was partially thankful to have the darkness confirmed as night – hopefully not a different night, that would be disastrous. Esesra could barely see the road from her position on the floor. K’Shied was small below in the distance, but not as tiny as she had feared. Either she hadn’t been asleep long or the kidnappers hadn’t gotten out of the city very quickly. Esesra prayed it was a combination of both.

Seeing the stars gave her hope.

Not seeing the moon told her they weren’t traveling west if it was still early in the evening. South was also immediately ruled out; that road away from K’Shied was too flat. That left north or east. Esesra decided to rule out north. That road was slopped down; the fact that she could see the capital below her had to mean we were traveling east.

So what was east? 

Esesra racked her brain to remember the maps in her father’s study and castle office. He had a map of Trellyx and the known continents of Gaea at both locations. That gave Esesra questions of ‘what cities are east of K’Shied’ and ‘what country is east of Trellyx.’ That last one scared her. She pushed the thought completely out of her mind. ‘I will not think so negatively.’

Esesra’s mind wandered for several minutes, trying to come up with a plan from the few clues she had gathered. They had been kidnapped and were probably going to be ransomed. They were in a covered wagon heading east. It couldn’t be past the eighth hour.

Esesra came to a conclusion: She couldn’t possibly do a thing.

Tears welled up in her eyes. Esesra attempted to clamp down on her emotions. She could cry, that was most certainly allowed; but she must not make a noise. She felt that she mustn’t alert their captors to her state of awareness. She half wished to take the handkerchief from her pocket to dry her eyes as her mother had in her youth, soothing her after the scary nightmares.

‘Foolish. Even if I could reach my handkerchief, I couldn’t bring it to my face.’

A quiet sniffle made its way from her.

A breeze passed through the wagon, brushing her bangs across her cheek.

The tail of her handmaiden scarf, worked loose somewhere along the line, waved slightly in the breeze.

Esesra froze, eyes on the scarf.

Could she work it loose with her mouth? Could she get her head over the lip of the wagon? Could it possibly stay on the road without the wind taking it away?

Could she possibly get away with such a stunt without getting caught?

She hadn’t heard them speak in at least fifteen minutes. What would they do if they caught her?

Esesra immediately assumed ‘not much.’ Her parents were very wealthy; her father a prominent man of the royal court. She was sure that was why she hadn’t been left behind. She was worth something. She doubted they would kill her. Perhaps a yelling, maybe a slap or a punch? 

‘Pfft, attempting to leave a trail is well worth that.’

Esesra very slowly turned her head so that she was facing the front of the wagon. Two young men occupied the driver’s seat, one of the slouched to the side, clearly asleep. The second seemed to be in a haze, the reigns to the four horses were slack in his hands and his posture matched that of his companion. Two more horses rode ahead, one a bit further than the other. The closest one bore two riders, the other only one.

None of them were looking back at the wagon.

Esesra made her decision and set to work undoing her scarf with her mouth. Undoing it wasn’t too terrible; she was thankful that the double knot had not been tightly done. She checked over her shoulder to make sure none of the kidnappers were looking – they weren’t. Swiftly, Esesra worked the scarf from around her neck, pushed herself up with her shoulder, and spat the scarf over the lip and out of the wagon.

She watched their only hope flutter along on the breeze and alight in the branches of a tree alongside the road.

Esesra sent up a prayer to Teradosq for the scarf to attract attention and for the discoverer to realize what it was.

She kept her eyes on the scarf until she could no longer see it. As far as she could tell, it didn’t move. She lay her head back down on the floor of the wagon and closed her eyes. There was nothing she could do now but sleep. 

Esesra wanted to be at full strength in mind and body to face tomorrow.

~*~

Delma and Chelsea did not begin to worry about the lateness of the hour. Esesra had come home after the ninth hour a few times; it was not an uncommon occurrence. They began to worry as the tenth hour approached.

As Head of the Guard, Delma Amia was a man of action. Foregoing manners, he entered his daughter’s room and quickly located her weekly schedule. He recognized the names of today’s other four handmaidens; all were friends of Esesra’s. He rushed to the servants’ quarters, rousing them. A few of the maidservants were directed to sit with Chelsea; four manservants were sent to the handmaidens’ homes with further instructions to meet him at the palace.

If Esesra had stayed late at the palace, she would have sent a page to inform her parents. Their daughter was well-behaved in such a manner. Something had to be wrong; his instincts agreed. 

Delma had to do little detective work to discover the story – the palace’s workers and gossip had yet to fail him. The head palace guard was required to know everything and he told Delma what he knew. A perfectly normal day until just after lunch. The Voli’yiir meant to escort the princesses and handmaidens on a day out to the city had been late; they still hadn’t been found. The guard was sure to mention he’d just learned this part of the story; Delma felt his truthfulness. The women decided to go anyway. They had yet to return as far as he knew.

Delma barked instructions as fast as the thoughts came to him. The princesses’ quarters were to be checked, as were the handmaidens’ rooms and Esesra’s office. If they were found to be empty, (Delma knew they would be,) the king and queen were to be roused. Delma would meet with them in the king’s study at a quarter to the eleventh hour. A soldier was to be sent to Cordiella’s to find out if the princesses and handmaidens had dined there. Everyone was to move as fast as possible while being discrete.

The Amia manservants arrived. Their information perplexed Delma. Three of the four handmaidens had arrived home safely, very early: one around half-past the fifth hour, two shortly after the seventh hour. Three of four of the handmaidens were accounted for. Delma reigned in conspiracy theories, at least until the guards sent to check the young women’s rooms returned. They did a bit later, their faces betraying their lack of findings. 

He sent his manservants back to the house, directing them to try to keep Chelsea from hysterics. He didn’t bother to tell them to tell Chelsea to not wait up; a worried mother wouldn’t go to bed with her daughter missing. A messenger was sent to the Voli’yiir and Valen headquarters to send out search parties.

Delma prepared to meet with the king and queen. 

~*~

Fen’s eyes were focused on the never-ending bit of road in front of him between his horse’s ears. He’d seen the same fields and scattered trees for the past several miles. Something purple flashed beside him and then disappeared. He pulled his horse to an abrupt stop; his fellow Valen galloped on ahead of him for a minute before they realized he was not among them.

“What is it?”

Fen turned his horse around, eyes searching for the… thing.

There!

A sort of purple-blue bit of fabric was caught in the trees.

His unit came up to him.

“That’s… Isn’t that the color that the princess’ handmaidens wear?”

“It is! Fen, ride back to the palace as fast as your horse can bear! We’ll go on ahead.”

Fen kicked his horse, eyes set on K’Shied.

~*~

Esesra was jostled awake when someone picked her up. The faint light coming through her eyelids spoke of early morning, just a bit past dawn. With her experience from the first time she had awoken earlier that night, she kept her reaction in check. That only meant keeping her eyes closed; her body and breathing she had little control over. She attempted to keep her breathing even, her body relaxed. Her captor attributed her movement to her body being moved; he stated as such. Esesra head two other voices agree about the princesses. 

Esesra began to panic when she heard no comment about Lisabeth.

She panicked further when a male voice asked Lisabeth to open the door and the other handmaiden vocalized her compliance, albeit amidst whining.

‘Is Lisabeth working with the kidnappers?

Maybe she woke up early and is at sword point and it’s easier to have her hold the door?’

A male voice rudely, inappropriately, told Lisabeth to shut up. It came from behind Esesra. Lisabeth’s voice was somewhere in front of her. Shouldn’t the person holding Lisabeth captive silence her?

Lisabeth made a reply, sounding for all the world in normal banter with a brother.

Esesra almost gave herself away to rebuke the other handmaiden. She forced herself to remain limp. The young man holding her carried her up a flight of stairs and eventually laid her on a bed. Esesra heard his footsteps walk away, then a door close and a key in the lock.

She was trapped.

Esesra wildly prayed that she had been too distracted to hear where the princesses had been carried to. They had to be here with her!

Esesra was sure no one conscious was in the room with her. To be sure, she silently inhaled and held her breath and counted to twenty. The only noises she heard were muffled – they came from the other side of the door or from another part of the house.

Esesra’s eyes flew open and she jerked up awkwardly, glancing about the room.

It was empty. No captors, no princesses. 

She huffed and collected her bearings.

The window at the far end of the room was covered, but the curtains were thin and meant to allow sunlight to filter in. The room was small and looked a bit old, paint was peeling here and there and the blanket was musty. The only things in the room were a nightstand, a dresser, and the bed. The dresser and nightstand had nicks and paint chips on them. 

Nothing small enough for her to pick up and attempt to knock out her captors with; unless there was something in either the dresser or the nightstand, but Esesra doubted it. The room was too old, too worn, to have anything of use in it.

That thought shocked her. Apparently she had inherited her father’s planning skills. 

They had served her two years ago when she had caught the market thief. They had earned her the position as head of the handmaidens. 

Arguably, those same skills had also been used to seat guests at Chandar’s coa party as well as her own. They had told her to have Evaine create her origami creations early, twice. Those skills had pieced together Lynores’ dress. 

This was a life or death situation. Not a party.

‘If it gets the princesses home safely…’

Esesra sat for several minutes, contemplating.

It was worth it.

One step at a time.

The first step was to remove the rope around her wrists.

Esesra had been in a very similar situation when she was younger. She, the princesses, prince, and neighborhood children had been playing out this exact scenario. Then, Esesra’s arms had been long enough and her torso short enough that, with a bit of work and a teeny bit of pain in her shoulders and wrists, she was able to work her hands underneath her bottom and around her bent legs. The neighborhood children never allowed her to play a captured girl after that.

She had been six.

Could she possibly repeat the stunt ten years later in an adult’s body?

Dumb to ask.

Esesra laid down on her side and set to work.

It took her twice as long and was nearly that much more painful. But now she could see the knots in the rope. She began picking at them with her teeth. The knots gave quickly and Esesra sprang to the door.

‘How to get it open? Wait until someone comes?’ She heard nothing but her breathing and swiftly beating heart. ‘What would I do if it opens?’

Esesra slid against the wall to the floor and slumped over.

It was hopeless.

She sat on the floor against the door for Teradosq only knew how long. Eventually the early hour and dim light lulled her to sleep.

~*~

Footsteps, only one set, in the hall and the jangle of keys jarred Esesra from her light sleep. Last night’s events crashed into her mind, bringing her into full consciousness in a scant few seconds. She was scrambling to her feet almost as fast. The person in the hall arrived at the door, the key slipped into the lock and the door handle turned.

Esesra watched the door handle move, numb.

‘What am I to do?’

The door began to open.

She took a step back.

Sick with fear but fed up with it, something within Esesra snapped. A primal instinct for the safety of the princesses, and herself, overcame her.

She waited until the door was mostly open and the person taking a step into the room.

Desire for justice and revenge – escape! – made her grasp the door. In one swift, forceful movement, she took a step forward and firmly pushed the door back into the person.

**Smack!**

Hard wood met unyieldingly with soft flesh.

Had he been forewarned and braced himself for the attack, Esesra would have quickly lost the push-of-war over the door.

He hadn’t a clue and therefore crumpled at the impact and ended up sprawled half in the hallway.

‘That wasn’t too loud… As long as he is alone…’ Esesra stepped over the body and looked both ways along the hall. Nothing. She listened for a precious few moments. Still nothing. 

Esesra snatched the key and ring from the lock – he must have really trusted the bindings and her status as female – and pocketed them. He wore a mask; Esesra removed it. He didn’t look Trellyxian – he was far too dark-skinned – though Esesra had no idea what nationality he could possibly be. He was not dressed in the usual Trellyxian way, either: He wore dark brown pants, maroon boots, a light gray shirt, and a black sash. She hauled the man into her room, imprinting his face in her memory. Grimacing at her forced actions, she pried his mouth open and stuffed his mask as far back as she could. She used the long sash wrapped three times about his waist to tie his hands behind his back. With a surge of vengeful inspiration, she used the rope that had bound her to bind his ankles as well, as close to his hands as possible. Still having a bit of sash left, more inspiration struck. Esesra pushed him close to the bed and tied him to the foot of the bedpost.

She grinned in self-satisfaction. ‘Serves you right.’

Turning, she exited the room for the hall.

Locking the door, across the way she saw… bread and cheese? The food stuffs had half-tumbled from a bit of cloth. He must have been coming to feed her and dropped the bundle when she hit him with the door.

Esesra’s stomach rumbled. It had to be past the sixth hour. She normally rose about that time and had a light breakfast around half-past. ‘Last night’s events, and the sleeping drug, must have thrown my internal clock askew.’ Foregoing manners, she grabbed the food, cramming the bread into her mouth and chewing as fast as possible. Esesra began to make her way down the hall.

She nearly chocked. Learning her lesson, Esesra ate the cheese a bit slower. She quickly came to the end of the hall and a flight of stairs. Knowing that most houses had the bedrooms on the second floor, Esesra turned back to the hallway. Hopefully the princesses would be back along this hall.

One side of the hallway faced the outside; the other had two doors besides her own. Her room had been the closest to the stairwell. She walked swiftly to the middle door and pressed her ear against it. Muffled crying met her ears -‘Airja!’ - and a male voice… trying to soothe her? He either had a weakness for crying young women or he was putting on quite the act. Knowing form their childhood that the second princess was almost a literal waterworks when worked up, Esesra moved to the third door. 

A strong male voice instructed to ‘eat or go hungry.’ Esesra could barely hear Lynores’ voice respond. Silence followed. Knowing the elder princess would follow decorum as much as possible, Esesra guessed that she had just short of ten minutes to prepare until the captor left Lynores’ room. If the eldest princess had been given the meager amount that Esesra had been brought, that is.

Esesra paced the hallway three times, thinking, trying to come up with a plan. She had been winging it so far, going along with her instincts as they flared up. Now the princess’ lives could literally be at stake. She had to have some form of a plan before proceeding recklessly.

She passed by Lynores’ door and heard the man say something about rebinding her. ‘That has to mean he’s going to bring her out with him! He’ll be focused on the princess!’

The voice grew closer. Esesra mentally swore. ‘I don’t have a plan!’ The door handle twitched.

She blanched; there was nowhere to hide! Esesra tucked herself into the corner, trying to make herself as small as possible. ‘Please Teradosq, let him be focused on Lynores and not see me!’ She kept her eyes firmly open and focused; if he did see her, hopefully against the impossible odds, she could still salvage the situation.

The door opened. The pair entered the hallway, Teradosq-blessedly facing the opposite direction; he was watching Lynores like a hawk. Esesra saw a dagger tucked inside his sash at his back as he pulled Lynores, her hands bound in front of her, into the hallway. He was dressed much as Esesra’s captor and wore a mask as well.

She saw her opportunity and took it before any more variables could present themselves. Silently she launched herself from the wall and flew to the pair. Pulling the dagger from its resting place, she placed the tip against the bare skin between his shirt collar and ear. Esesra pitched her voice low. “Don’t move.”

The man froze. Automatically, his other hand had gone for his sword; it now hovered three inches from the hilt. Lynores stopped moving half a step later. 

“Don’t move,” Esesra huskily repeated. Her eyes were glued to that sword. If she didn’t proceed with utmost caution, she would wind up severely wounded or…

“Unhand the princess. Put your hands over your eyes.” The dagger did not waver. The man did as instructed.

Very carefully, very slowly, Esesra pulled the princess backwards to her around the man. Before Lynores could turn, Esesra lightly covered the princess’ mouth. Lynores froze; Esesra removed her hand and turned her friend to face her. Lynores’ eyes went wider than the palace’s dinner plates.

But Lynores understood; she nodded.

Esesra pointed to the man’s sword, then to Lynores. The princess gulped but did as Esesra silently instructed. As gracefully and quietly as possible, Lynores pulled the sword from its sheath. The man twitched, then stiffened. 

Esesra took the sword from Lynores and placed it alongside its brother. She used her head and beckoned the princess toward her and between the two of them, they cut the ropes around Lynores’ wrists.

Esesra used the dagger to point to the room the pair had just left. Lynores took the hint and reentered it. “Keep your hands over your eyes. Back up.” Awkwardly, Esesra maneuvered the man back into the room and on the floor by the bed. Motioning the princess over, Esesra managed to convey to her to remove his sash. Lynores’ eyes betrayed her question, but she did as asked. After instructing the man to turn away, step by step Esesra managed to silently instruct Lynores to tie him up in the same manner she had his comrade. 

After the man was tied up, Esesra removed his mask. Immediately his head snapped to look at her. Shock and rage colored his face. She smirked, not knowing she was pulling the face, and beckoned Lynores to leave the room with her, locking the door behind them. 

‘Two down, three to go.’

Lynores began to speak but Esesra motioned for her to keep her voice down. “Where’s my sister? Where’s Airja?” she whispered. 

Esesra pointed to the middle door. “There’s another man in there, giving her breakfast.”

“What are we going to do? How in Teradosq’s name did you get out?”

Esesra was about to respond when the handle of the middle door began to turn. She shushed Lynores and pushed the princess behind her. Pocketing the dagger and hoping it would stay there, Esesra moved to stand in front of the opening door, newly acquired sword pointed straight at the doorway. Esesra waited with baited breath.

The doors swung open. The man, also masked, was distracted by pulling Airja out with him; he didn’t see Esesra or the sword, whose tip was several inches from his neck. The younger princess did see the spectacle and gasped. None of the women actually wanted the man’s blood spilt. Esesra didn’t want to be the one to commit the deed.

Esesra adjusted the height and closeness of the sword.

Airja’s gasp made him stop but also further distracted him.

“Don’t move.” Esesra again used her ‘man’s voice,’ if only to make him pause for a second or two longer. He turned at the sound of her voice. He didn’t even try to hide his shock at finding a girl holding a sword to him.

His hand went to his own sword.

“I said ‘don’t move,’” Esesra repeated, pushing the sword a bit closer to him for emphasis.

He tsked and kept inching toward his sword.

Esesra forwent words and placed the steel directly on the bare skin an inch beneath his collarbone.

He stopped.

“I am female; therefore you are better with the sword. However, I’m sure that we both understand perfectly well what happens if I push too hard. You’ve already made me angry by kidnapping the princesses. Don’t make me even more angry.”

He said nothing, his eyes answering that he understood. They mocked her, but complied.

“Airja, come out here by your sister,” Esesra instructed. Airja obeyed; the man allowed it. “Lynores, take his sword.” Again, the action was allowed, but his eyes hardened. The sword was dropped to the floor across the hall.

Esesra stepped boldly towards him and pulled his mask off. He was not the nationality of the other two; he did not have a handy sash to tie him up with. He was Trellyxian by his clothes, though. Esesra would remember his face easily. 

She debated with simply locking him in the room. However, her instincts told her that binding him and further hindering him was a much better option, dangerous as that course was.

“Princess Lynores, please untie your sister and bring me the rope.” Esesra tightened her grip on the sword. “Back into the room,” she told the man. He complied, back-stepping away from her. She kept pace with him until he was next to the bed. “On the floor.” Again, he complied. Esesra instructed Lynores to tie his hands with the rope. She bent and did so.

Seeing the ribbon bob in her hair as she completed her task gave Esesra another idea.

“Princesses, undo the ribbons in your hair. Lynores, tie his feet to his hands and to the bed, like we did with his companions.”

He didn’t try to hide his surprise. The princesses did as instructed.

Esesra tried to hide her leer. ‘Shouldn’t goad him…’

The three women exited the room and Esesra locked the door. She let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. ‘Three down. The princesses are safe.’

Temporarily.

“Esesra, how – ” Airja began.

Esesra shook her head. “Not now. There’s still two more men, if not more. We have to get out of here.” She started for the stairwell.

“What about Lisabeth?” Airja asked as the two princesses followed.

Esesra hesitated in answering, but the truth had to be known. “I think she’s helping the kidnappers,” she replied quietly.

Both princesses gasped and bombarded Esesra with questions. 

Before she could respond, a male voice yelled up the stairs. “What’s taking so long?”

Esesra froze and swore mentally. ‘Now what?’ The princesses halted behind her.

Not getting an answer, the man began walking towards the stairs.

Esesra backed up, motioning for the princesses to move further down the hall. The man neared the stairs. ‘Think, think!’

‘The dagger!’

She pulled it from her pocket and hurled it down the stairs, close enough to startle him but not actually hit him. She had been aiming for the corner below, hoping the extra clatter would further distract him. She was way off; the dagger flew about a foot on the other side of the man. 

Her goal of distraction worked, despite her atrocious aim. His jaw dropped and his head followed the trail of the flying object.

Esesra took her chance and charged for him.

He heard her and turned for the oncoming attack, hand reaching for his sword.

“Don’t – draw!” Esesra cried loudly.

Too slow.

His sword was half-drawn while Esesra was still a few feet from him.

Esesra continued her advance but switched her tactic. If she could swing her sword at just the right angle and speed… She wrapped her other hand around the handle and slowed her pace to match the man’s. When his sword had finally been drawn but before he could move further, Esesra swung her sword. Flowing with his movements, her sword met his a few inches from his hilt.

The swords clanged together. Completely unsuspecting of her actions, the man’s grip on his sword was lost. The sword flew from his hand and across the room.

His mouth hung down again.

Esesra nearly lost her balance but her body moved through the fluid motion of a Norcum twirl. She broke from the dance form to insure she didn’t accidentally attempt to behead the man. She brought her hilt close to her face, bringing the tip nearly even with his nose. 

He went cross-eyed at the steel tip.

“Turn around. Down the stairs,” Esesra commanded. 

When he didn’t budge, Esesra pushed the sword tip right up against the bridge of his nose. “Go!”

He took one step down, then headed the rest of the way down the stairs. Esesra kept pace with him, sword resting on his shoulder a scant two inches from his neck. They reached the main floor and she quickly scanned the room.

From what she had already seen of the layout of the house, Esesra was certain they were out in the country. She was now in the main room of the house; it was used primarily for the family to retire after dinner. The fact that it lead directly to the stairs and the outdoors clued Esesra in to their countryside location. This room doubled as the parlor when necessary, a rare occasion. 

“What’s all the noise?” a voice erupted from the next room – Esesra guessed it was the kitchen. “Arlis, what is taking so l – ”

The door opened. The speaker found out why his comrades weren’t as fast as he wanted them to be. 

Shaggy, blue-black hair framed dark brown eyes. The young man was tall and wiry. He wore the typical Trellyxian upper class clothes, yet his entire persona screamed dangerous.

Esesra felt that she should recognize him somehow.

“So the little handmaiden head things she can play hero, hmmm?” He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “We’ll see about that, Amia brat!” he yelled viciously, leaping halfway across the room. 

Esesra stepped back, attempting to put as much space as possible between her and the new man. For further emphasis, she pushed her captive towards her attacker. 

The two men met in a tangle of limbs and curses. The second man violently pushed the first away and lunged toward her. Esesra watched in horror as the new man recklessly swung his sword in anticipation of defeating her. The edge barley missed his fallen comrade. 

The new man didn’t flinch as his comrade’s head connected with the thick, solid, wooden knob of the couch’s armrest. Esesra did. She shivered when the body thumped to the floor. A bit of blood could be seen above his left eye. 

The man continued toward Esesra. She pulled her eyes from the fallen man and she ducked, scrambling away. The sword bit into the wooden stair railing. The rung splintered and she shied away from the debris. 

The man grunted as wooden needles bounced off his bare skin. He dislodged his sword and spun to search for Esesra, his eyes blazing with fury.

He was reckless, but Esesra was not stupid. He would skewer her if the opportunity arose. Not out of spite, but out of his overreach: he would accidentally do her harm in his rage if his sword made contact. He might not care if he hurt her, but his intent was to get her out of his way by whatever means necessary. Esesra couldn’t let that happen.

She was all the way across the room from the stairs by the time she stopped moving and his eyes found his quarry. He flung himself forward, completely throwing himself into the motion. Esesra easily side-stepped the attack and her assailant tumbled into an overstuffed chair. In his hurried rage to right himself, nearly a quarter of the stuffing was ripped out by his flailing.

Several minutes passed in this twisted version of cat and mouse. Both broke out in a sweat; Esesra could feel the sticky wetness trail rivulets down her back and attempt to drip into her eyes. The man had sweat patches on his clothes and his hair was beginning to shine. Esesra felt terribly sorry for the room, furniture, and its owners. The young man was tearing the room to shreds: stuffing, splinters, and rails were scattered about the room. Esesra was constantly near tripping over the debris. Her opponent paid no heed to his surroundings and found stuffing and wood constantly underfoot. He swore each time.

After fifteen minutes of dodging, Esesra could see that he was tiring. She was depleting her own energy but was not nearly as fatigued as he was. Despite having no endurance training, Esesra felt that she could go on for another hour if she must; while her opponent spent his energies constantly attacking with all of his being.

Each time he came at her, each time he swung his sword, and each time he tripped up, Esesra saw openings in which she could take him down. Had she had any sort of training and any comfort with her weapon, she might have tried. As it were, she had nothing but her brain and speed. Both were ill-equipped to shift her from evasive to offensive.

She cried out as she dodged a touch too slow. Swift steel bit into her right forearm, slicing away as quickly as it had come. It wasn’t deep but warm blood slowly began to stain her sleeve.

“Esesra!” the princesses whimpered worriedly.

The man’s head snapped to the stairs.

 **“Stay where you are!”** Esesra yelled to the man just as much as the princesses.

The man whipped back around to face her, eyes large; he was shocked that such a commanding voice could come from the girl. “Amia brat!” he spat. “You’ll pay for disrupting my plans! I’ll beat you to a bloody pulp and sell your body to an Aexcellian! Your father will fear the day he cast me out!”

The rage in his eyes heightened as Esesra again stepped out of the reach of his sword. He toppled into the couch yet again. As he scrambled back up, his outburst registered in her mind and a piece of the puzzle surrounding his identity fell into place.

Her father had dishonorably discharged him from the army five years ago. She had watched his terrible performance from a rooftop across the training yard. Apparently he hadn’t learned any restraint, his anger and recklessness had multiplied. He had taken up kidnapping his royalty as revenge.

He charged her again, this time with more ferocity than ever before. He didn’t trip, he didn’t stray; straight as an arrow he flew towards his target, sword raised.

Esesra waited until the very last second to move out of his way. He turned, empty hand balled into a fist. He overbalanced in his rush to attack and fell forward. Esesra pushed the nearby cushioned footrest, no longer so cushy, into his knees. He fell, hard, to the floor.

He grunted at the impact. Esesra winced. He pushed himself up and wiped… blood… from his nose. “You b*t(h!” He tore for her.

His nearness allowed Esesra precious little room to evade him. She braced herself at a bit of an angle away from him; right foot forward, her weight centered, both hands wrapped tightly around the hilt of her sword. Her steel tip was angled just a tad to her right.

As he came far too close for comfort, Esesra could see in his eyes that he expected her to run, just as she always had. 

She pressed his expectation and held her ground, twisting on her toes and pulling her elbows tightly down and to her left side. The swords caught and Esesra’s move snapped both swords around and down. She kept her hands firmly on her sword, her eyes on her assailant. The force rippled up Esesra’s arms, she did not yield. Sparks flew from the swords.

The sudden redirection and halt of his sword pitched the man into a roll over top of the locked weapons. Once again he found himself pushing up from the floor. He growled, showing his teeth like an animal.

He came at Esesra again, wildly swinging his sword back and forth. She quickly ducked and rolled right at his feet. He went down a mess of legs, sword, and arms.

Esesra pushed herself up. She was in a kneeling position – too slow. He was nearly on top of her. His sword was above his head, ready to split open her skull.

Instead of bracing and waiting for the strike, Esesra brought her sword parallel to the floor and pushed herself up.

The swords met with a clang. Esesra’s entire body wavered against the man’s brute strength, nearly sending her to the ground. Both combatants grit their teeth. Esesra felt her ankles crack.

He was stronger, taller, trained, and had so many other advantages over her. The sword edges inched towards her face. Esesra could see her features in the reflective steel.

She released her pressure and threw herself to the side. She kept one hand on her sword, hoping not to lose it.

The man fell to the ground without Esesra to hold him up. The hilt of his sword had hit him square in the gut. He wretched, blood and bile splattering against the floor. 

Esesra scrambled to her feet, pulling her sword away from his. She stood, sword in front of her, waiting for his next attack. She tried to prepare herself for whatever he would fling at her next.

The man struggled to his feet, blood dripping from his mouth. He heaved air in and out, trying to refill his lungs. His posture wavered.

‘Weak. Attack while your opponent is weak.’

Esesra smoothly charged him, gracefully avoiding the few obstacles in her path. He raised his sword weakly, Esesra swatted it away with her own. His grip was frail, his fingers limp; the sword went skittering beneath the couch.

His knees gave and he slumped to the floor, hands barely coming to bare against a complete fall.

Esesra pointed her sword at him, breathing heavily. “You’re finished,” she said with finality.

He nodded. 

There was a long pause.

Someone banged on the front door.

“This is Taff of the Valen! Open the door! Open the door in the name of the king or I will knock it down!”

Airja squealed. “Taff, help! In here! We’re in here!” Lynores hollered, echoing her sister’s words.

Esesra’s eyes flicked to the opening door.

She almost missed the young man reaching for the dagger.

“No!!”

“Taff!” the princesses screamed.

His fingers curled around the dagger’s hilt.

The door handle turned.

He lifted the dagger from the floor.

The door creaked in protest of being kicked.

The man was looking at the buckling door, then at Esesra, then to the stairs.

The other injured man moaned.

The door gave, showering splinters and pieces of wood within a four foot radius into the house.

A steel sword followed the broken remains of the door into the house.

The man was halfway up.

Esesra flung herself at him, sword half-forgotten in her hand at her side.

“Taff! Look out!”

She barreled into the man, knocking him over. She dropped her sword, hands searching for the other man’s and the knife. She tumbled to the ground with him, over top of him.

Cold steel nicked her fingers. She pitched herself into the man and landed on his shoulders. Following the dagger with her fingers, she found the hilt and one of his hands. Esesra’s other hand joined its twin and she pushed down with her remaining strength.

“Don’t move!” Taff yelled.

Esesra could feel the man tense beneath her. He was trapped, nearly beaten by a handmaiden and a Valen was advancing towards him. All of his men were down and he was near the end of his strength.

“Give up,” Esesra whispered.

His body went limp and his grip on the dagger relaxed. 

Esesra didn’t get off him or remove her hands from the dagger until Taff was beside her, pointing his sword at the man and pulling her to her feet.

~*~

Esesra collapsed into her father’s arms thirty minutes later. “Are the princesses alright?” Delma asked Taff and his partner Calmert; his hands searching his daughter for injury. He felt her wince and heard her whimper as he found a wound on her arm.

“They’re perfectly safe, not a scratch on them,” the two Valen replied. 

Delma gave his full attention to his daughter. “Esesra, Esesra, are you alright? What happened?” He pushed her away just enough to inspect the wound on her arm. Calmert had bandaged her while Taff had seen to the princesses. Delma caught sight of Esesra’s hand, wrapped in a scrap of dark blue clothe. “Esesra, what happened?”

The story spilled from her lips as tears fell from her eyes. The missing Voli’yiir escorts, the shopping trip, the other handmaidens leaving, Cordiella’s. The Valen escort home, the kidnapping, leaving her scarf. Surprising and tying up the three kidnappers, disarming the fourth, and the fight with the fifth. Esesra didn’t give her father every miniscule little detail (he would get that later), but she knew there was no way to pretend she hadn’t picked up a sword and attempted to fight with it. It wouldn’t matter, the princesses were safe.

Delma took the story in, brushing his hand through his daughter’s hair; he’d seen Chelsea do it a million times before to calm their daughter. He had never imagined he would have to recreate the action himself. He held her close, thanking Teradosq she was safe. He pondered how in Atlantis she had found the gull to pull of her feats, but that was for another time. He scooped Esesra into his arms, mounted his horse, motioned for Taff and Calmert to retrieve the princesses, and headed home.

~*~

Delma gave his preliminary report of the kidnappings to the king and queen later that night after dinner. After Delma and his entourage of Voli’yiir, Valen, Esesra, and the princesses had returned to the palace, both sets of parents had cleared the rest of their day to spend with their daughters. The king only requested that Delma give the preliminary report after dinner.

The king did not mince words. “My daughters tell me Esesra is the sole reason they escaped.”

Delma nodded his head.

“Care to elaborate?”

Delma told King Garath what Esesra told him when they had first found the girls. He didn’t know the full details yet; Esesra had been too shaken up. Garath didn’t know any more, his daughters had refrained from viewing the entirety of the action.

“I would like to hear Esesra’s account when you discuss the situation with her. When will that be?” Garath questioned gently.

“Tomorrow. After lunch. We’ll meet here at the first hour.”

~*~

Just before lunch, a knock came at the Amia’s door. A Valen told the servant he requested to see Esesra. She agreed to see him in her private sitting room. She recognized him as the guard who had come to them at Cordiella’s. He introduced himself as Quient, then went straight to the point. He drew his sword and handed it to Esesra, hilt first. Esesra didn’t move from her seat, astonished. “This is the sword that you fought with yesterday. One of the kidnappers took it from me. You should have it.”

Esesra’s jaw dropped and her eyes went large. “I… I can’t… It’s not proper…”

“Damn propriety. You played with, you fought with, my two younger brothers when all three of you were young. I’m sure everyone’s mother looked down on it. I’m glad you did.” He offered her the sword again. “I know it’s not my fault; but I’m glad you saved the princesses. Take it. You’ve earned it, you deserve it.”

Esesra did, slowly. A part of her wanted it as a tribute to her harrowing ordeal, another argued 

‘What would mother think?’ 

‘Father would understand, almost agree.’

It was honorable of her accept it… Esesra made her decision and firmly took the sword. “Thank you.” 

Quient nodded, bid her good day, and left.

~*~

Esesra and her father met with King Garath shortly after lunch. Esesra was a little nervous repeating her story to the king. All told, she took almost an hour to give nearly all of the details to the king (she still did not divulge the entirety of her fighting). Her audience was mostly silent, her father asking clarifying questions here and there as he took notes.

Both men were astounded when Esesra finally came to the end of her tale. They sat in silence for several minutes. Delma finally broke the stillness. “The missing Voli’yiir were found the morning after the kidnapping. One of the kidnappers had slipped a powerful sleeping drug into their food and hidden them in a laundry closet. They woke up and began pounding on the locked door.”

“What about the three handmaidens that left early?” Esesra asked, fearing the worst. She felt guilty that she hadn’t thought about them yesterday.

Delma’s face brightened. “As luck would have it, Lisabeth is the only mole in the palace. They simply wanted to go home early.”

Esesra breathed a sigh of relief. Her father answered her next question before she could ask it. “Lisabeth was feeding the horses this morning. She hadn’t a clue that you had been found; the Valen took her into custody after she came back to her home. Apparently she came home after last night.”

The king had a question. “How is it the sleeping concoction had less effect on your daughter?”

Esesra turned to her father, awaiting the answer. Now that she had time to slow down and think, it was a very good question. The king had a very fine point.

“The main ingredient in the concoction is Asturian in origin. Asturians have a built-up partial immunity to it. Esesra is half-Asturian, through her mother.”

The king nodded. “Delma, with your and Chelsea’s permission, the full story will be made public. I would like to award a medal of bravery to Esesra at a banquet in her honor early next week.”

Esesra blushed and thanked her king. Delma was a bit surprised but he accepted. 

~*~

Esesra was the main attraction at the banquet in her honor. Her mother was proud of the male attention her daughter was receiving. She wouldn’t have been proud if she heard what they were discussing. The male audience around her daughter wanted to hear of her heroic actions against the kidnappers.

Delma had told Esesra not to tell Chelsea about Quient’s sword. Chelsea only believed part of the story. Esesra had saved the princesses; there was no denying that. Chelsea believed her daughter had simply pulled the princesses from the wagon and hidden in the woods until a guard had come by. The rest was gossip and rumors.

Chelsea was in denial.

Esesra was happy.

Delma was caught in the middle.

The king had an idea, but he kept it to himself. It was not his place to interfere. Chelsea would hate him. He would let events unfold naturally; allow the leaves to fall as they may. Destiny had a way of working itself out…


	11. Chapter XI

Chapter XI

The rumors of Esesra’s heroics died a month after the kidnapping. With them went the young men that had seem so promising to Chelsea. Most of these possible suitors had been Voli’yiir and Valen, which did not bother Chelsea in the least. They were all men under her husband’s employ and it would be keeping with Amia tradition if Esesra married a military man.

What bothered Chelsea were the new rumors. It was common for Trellyxian women to be courted for several months to a year before engagement, then to marry between seventeen and nineteen years of age. However, her daughter was over halfway through her seventeenth year and had not been seeing very many suitors. The new rumors were saying how well Esesra had done in rescuing the princesses and that she was a wonderful head of the handmaidens. 

Esesra had found a niche, found herself comfortable in what she considered her career. She wasn’t actively looking for suitors. She never made herself available and the suitors were no longer pursuing her. Chelsea began dropping hints here and there. After a month, she began outright badgering Esesra. Her daughter would reply that she was completely satisfied with her position within the palace. She worked hard all day long and throughout most of the week; she didn’t have time for suitors.

Esesra was content in her current place in life and was not working towards something more. She didn’t want to search for a suitor; she didn’t particularly want to be pursued. Therefore, when possible suitors approached her, they caught her air of contentedness and noncommittedness and they did not linger long. 

Delma agreed with his daughter. Let Esesra have some time for herself, he theorized. In a few months she’ll begin to seek out suitors on her own. Let her take her time; go at her own pace.

The rumors still bothered Chelsea.

~*~

Esesra sat idly with Brianna on the far side of the theater’s royal box. She should have known that her mother had suggested Helain for a reason. While the play was Austrian in origin, the message was the same for all young court or noble women everywhere. The titular character was a beautiful and virtuous woman who through the ‘trials’ and ‘tribulations’ of growing up, meets the perfect suitor at her coa party. They court for a year, are engaged for another, and marry. Helain has four lovely children, who follow in their mother’s footsteps almost to the letter. Helain dies at the ripe old age of ninety, happy and with many grandchildren and great grandchildren.

Esesra stifled a gag. She wasn’t here for herself, she was here for Lynores. The princess’ nineteenth birthday was just over a month away. Her father hoped to celebrate the occasion with an engagement announcement.

Esesra and Brianna were at the theater as the female attendants for Lynores’ outing with Prince Danal Ishi, First Born of Ishilm. The prince was one of many possible suitors that had been invited to Lynores’ coa; both Esesra and Airja had enjoyed their short time in his presence that night. Their opinions where part of the reason Lynores had continued to see him after the first initial outing.

Esesra thought they were a great couple. Lynores had tamed most of her childhood spunk and become a beautiful, refined princess. In contradiction to the cookie cutter princess, Lynores was not afraid to have real conversations with people and she smiled and laughed – a true, deep, real laugh – often. Lynores was not above making an unsoiled joke.

Prince Danal was nearly her opposite. The man did not seem rude or harsh in any sense, but Esesra and Airja had jokingly wondered if he had been born an adult and never learned to smile. Of course, he was the First Born of a country; life dictated that he know how to run it. He was a tall, firm man, almost always serious.

He smiled when he was with Lynores; his edges would soften and his eyes would brighten.

He treated Lynores well.

King Garath noticed and approved.

Brianna twittered about the play, the attractive actors, and her sister’s upcoming coa party. Esesra tuned her out. She’d gotten rather good at tuning out the chatter of the handmaidens over the past year and a half or so.

Later that evening, Lynores discussed the outing with Airja and their collective handmaidens. Esesra particularly disliked such instances. There was five times as much talking and only a quarter of the work was completed. She usually let such instances slide in situations of the princesses’ suitors, though. The tasks required little effort and Esesra usually picked up the slack, allowing all of the other women to enjoy themselves. Esesra detested the gossiping but she enjoyed happy handmaidens and cheerful princesses.

She absolutely despised it when the handmaidens turned their attentions to her.

“Esesra! Brianna said that one of the Ishilmanite guards was watching you throughout dinner! Is he handsome?” Tathal gushed.

Esesra shrugged. The only notice she had taken of the Ishilmanite guards was to make sure they didn’t get lost.

“I heard one of them is King Ishi’s nephew and is looking for a wife.” Denira gossiped. “I wonder if he’ll consider a Trellyxian woman?”

“One of us maybe!” Yvette crowed.

Esesra refrained from rolling her eyes.

After the chattering died down a bit, Lynores pulled Esesra aside. “You know they’re just having fun, right? They don’t mean anything by it.”

Esesra smiled at her friend. “Lynores, you ask me that at least three times a month!”

Lynores giggled and then gave Esesra a contemplative look.

“Mother talked to you, didn’t she?” The princess nodded and Esesra huffed. “I wish she’d take Father’s stance on the subject and let me have my space. I’m doing just fine where I’m at.”

“She does it because she cares,” Lynores softly reminded Esesra.

“I know she loves me, but I wish she would back off instead of getting in my face and turning my friends against me. She’s smothering me!”

“Esesra, neither Airja nor I are against you, you know that.”

Esesra sighed. “I know, I’m sorry. Sometimes I get so fed up with the situation.”

Lynores nodded her forgiveness.

The young women were silent for a few minutes. The princess broke it. “What do you want to do with the rest of your life, Esesra? You don’t have much time to be comfortable where you are now…”

Esesra thought before she answered. She and Lynores had danced around this subject ever since the kidnapping. The eldest princess was the only person Esesra had completely confided in about the event. How, beneath the fear and uncertainty, Esesra had been exhilarated about holding a real sword and (almost) actually fighting.

Lynores hadn’t found the news surprising at all.

“What I would like to do and what I could do are two very different things,” came Esesra’s response. “I… for now, I’m happy to be head handmaiden.”

Lynores knew her friend better than that. “Alright, so you’ll be head handmaiden for a few more years. You’ll watch me get married next year and Airja in a few more years. What then? We… we won’t be here for you to be head of our handmaidens anymore. Will you wait until Zatl finds a wife; maybe play the chaperone for Zatl’s outings?”

Esesra did the math in her head. The king and queen’s son was between her and Airja in age. He’d be twenty or older before marriage. That was two or three more years from now. She’d be nearly twenty-two years of age at that time. If not twenty-five years of age.

“I don’t know what I’ll do after Airja is married,” she admitted softly.

“I know you don’t really want to become one of the mundane palace workers, Esesra. I know you would despise marrying a rich old man and living the social life of your mother.”

Esesra’s mouth tugged into a smile.

“Esesra.” Lynores looked into her friend’s eyes. “What do you really want to do with your life?”

Esesra looked away for a few seconds, then back. The answer came to her swiftly and clearly; she was almost ashamed that thinking of what she wanted came so easily. She sucked in a breath. “I’ve never told anyone; I’m afraid it would get back to Mother.” She paused. “Quient, the Valen that escorted us from Cordiella’s, one of the kidnappers took his sword. The same sword that I fought with. He gave it to me the day after. He said I deserved to have it. I know the Voli’yiir code of honor demands such.” Lynores started at this, Esesra explained. “Not that he messed up so bad he deserved to lose it; I was the one who used it and it saved you and Airja. He wanted me to have it. Lynores, I put it under my bed; like a child hiding a sweet or a toy. But… it eats me up inside. I used it to save the princesses of my country. A large part of me wonders if I could use it to save someone else.”

Lynores was not shocked at this news. Her friend had always been a tomboy. Esesra hid it well from her mother; from the rest of the world. She tried to fit in with proper Trellyxian ways. The princess knew that someday, propriety would suffocate Esesra.

“Do you have real skill?”

“I feel in my heart that I do.”

“What steps would you take were you male?”

The answer required no thought on Esesra’s part; Lynores knew the basic answer already. “Enter the tournaments. Find someone to train me; hone my skill. Learn as much as possible. Maybe even become a Valen or even a Voli’yiir.”

Both women knew what came next; they knew what the road block was.

“Does my father know the entire story? I’m sure an exception could be made for you. There are women in Egzardia who have come into office and been trained with the sword. It is not too revolutionary an idea.”

“What would my mother say? I’m sure Father would be thrilled. But Mother?”

“If Chelsea Klairita Amia née Crea truly wants her daughter to be happy, I think she’ll learn to accept it.”

Esesra nodded.

“Don’t make me order you to talk to her,” Lynores teased.

Neither woman attempted to hide their laughter.

~*~

Esesra took her lunch break with her father in his office the next day. They ate in silence; Delma filled out some paperwork, waiting for his daughter to gather her wits. He knew she had something on her mind. She either really did not want to tell him something or she really did but wasn’t sure how to go about it. Delma had given up his mild betting habits when he had begun courting Chelsea, but he would put money on the second option.

Delma felt sure he had a great relationship with his (not his) daughter. Pretty much as good as it got, considering they were different sexes and therefore from different societal worlds. He knew he was a good father (figure); he had never missed a birthday party nor Esesra’s coa. (Paradise help the father that did.) He nearly always had breakfast with her; they had the early bird routine in common.

Esesra was his daughter in everything but blood. He and Chelsea had raised her as best they could and couldn’t have hoped for a better daughter. Delma would give his daughter all the time in the world to gather her thoughts.

Esesra finished her lunch and folded her hands in her lap. Puffing her bangs out of her eyes, she began. Delma pushed his paperwork to the side. “Father… I… I haven’t been completely honest with you and Mother.”

Delma looked hard at his daughter. Her body language and tone of voice did not convey shame or wrongdoing. Conversely, Delma felt that Esesra wanted him to know something she had kept to herself for a long time. A very long time. She wanted him to know her more, deeper, better. She was going to reveal a profound bit of herself, her soul, to him. “Go on,” he said supportively.

Esesra opened and closed her mouth, unsure. “I was much more the aggressor in the kidnapping situation – and with the marketplace thief all those years ago – then I’ve let you and Mother believe.” She sucked in a breath. “Quient gave me his sword the day after the kidnapping.” Esesra didn’t repeat the reason, her father knew and understood. He was shocked. “The rumors Mother ignores about me fighting the fifth man? They’re partially true.” Esesra proceeded to give him the full account of the kidnapping incident. She then gave him the real details about her encounter with the marketplace thief, including the lies and sneaking out. She didn’t tell him that the Valen had known part of the truth; there was no reason for him to be punished. She finished with “I don’t want Quient’s sword to rust beneath my bed; I want to take it up and defend with it.”

By the time she finished, she was half an hour late returning to Lynores. That was alright, Lynores knew what she was occupied with. Esesra’s presence with the princess wasn’t completely necessary anyway.

Delma wished to Teradosq, not for the first time, that Esesra had been born male. It would have saved her and her (adopted) parents so many complications; not just the one they were discovering now. He was sure she had made the same wish many times over the course of her life. 

But then he and Chelsea would never have raised her, probably have never had a child of their own at all, if that timeline had followed this one. He sighed.

“Father…?” he had taken a few minutes to gather his own thoughts.

“I understand why you kept this from us, especially your mother. Esesra, you know you were born under special circumstances. Chelsea had three miscarriages before you and one after. The doctors in their limited knowledge decided we shouldn’t try for any more.” The situation was mostly true. Esesra’s ‘special circumstances’ was more a miracle of her keeping her life than actually being born.

Esesra nodded and completed her father’s thought. “They didn’t want Mother to go through any more pain, physically and emotionally.”

“She was so excited when you were born and we discovered you were a girl.” Delma’s face lit up at the memory, slightly different than the theater play Esesra was imagining. Delma pulled the conversation back on topic. “It is a very rare thing for a woman to break from tradition and even hold a sword. I disagree with the worldview, but there is little I can do to change it. I now you agree with me.”

Esesra smiled. “I think Mother believed that if she smothered me with enough dolls and tea parties she’d stamp out my fondness for wooden swords and stuffed horses.”

Both Amias chuckled at warm memories. 

Delma became serious first. From what Esesra had just described to him, she may have real talent. She most certainly had the heart and desire, even the proper drive. The Head Guard in him did not want to see it go to waste. His father instincts said it was his position to take up arms to defend home and country, not for his little girl to follow that same path. “Lynores told you to talk about this, didn’t’ she?”

“You know us too well.”

“Your mother will pitch a hissy fit.” He didn’t bother to hide that fact.

“You sound as if you’ve already given your consent.”

Not only did she have the heart, she was perceptive. Delma hadn’t truly made a decision, but he did know which way he was leaning. He smiled at his daughter. She looked so much like her mother - both of them. She took after both of her fathers, albeit in vastly different ways. “From what you have told me, and if I’m reading the king correctly, I think you would make an excellent Voli’yiir.”

Esesra gasped. “Voli’yiir? The king? Really?”

Delma laughed at her surprise. “Yes, really. It seems the only person we have to convince is your mother. The rest of the country will of course follow whatever the king declares.”

“What makes you think he’ll allow it?”

“He’s been asking about you ever since the kidnapping. Nothing obvious, just how you’re doing and how you like your post. But I saw him that night, when you told us what happened. I think he saw through your fib, he saw the light in your eyes. I missed it, being so worried about you and the princesses missing and two Voli’yiir and one Valen down. But I saw the gleam in his eyes. I’m just now understanding what it means; that he saw your potential.”

Esesra beamed. She went around the desk to hug her father. “Now get back to work,” he teasingly chided her. “No Voli’yiir or daughter of mine is an hour late for her shift.”

Esesra saluted before she left.

Delma did not miss the fact that she had perfect form.

~*~

Esesra let the matter ruminate for a week before telling her mother. She scheduled herself for the afternoon off and requested to take tea with her mother in the privacy of their home. Esesra asked the cook to make her mother’s favorite tea and cookies. A little placating wouldn’t hurt.

Esesra was already seated when her mother entered the room, closing the door and seating herself with a flourish.

Chelsea Amia thought her daughter had wonderful news for her. After one look at her daughter’s face, she knew differently. Esesra wanted her mother’s blessing on something but not for the reason Chelsea hoped. Visions of grandchildren dancing through their home broke into little pieces inside her mind.

Chelsea picked up the cookie tray. All of her favorites. It must be really big for Esesra to have the cook in on it. She was sure she could smell her favorite tea, too. She ate her cookie in silence. She watched her daughter drink her own tea, gathering her thoughts.

Mother finished her cookie and dabbed at invisible crumbs with her dainty napkin. Daughter placed her teacup a smidge roughly on the saucer, spilling one drop. 

Chelsea ignored it. 

Both stared at each other for a moment.

“You’re not here to tell me there’s a very promising suitor, are you?”

“No Mother, I’m not and there isn’t.”

Chelsea nervously played with her teacup. Mentally scolding herself, she put her cup down and her hands in her lap. She had an inkling of what her daughter wanted to talk about. She wasn’t yet ready to acknowledge it. There was no putting it off though. “What would you like to discuss then?” she asked neutrally.

Esesra puffed up her bangs – a habit Chelsea had never fully conquered herself. “I want to become a Voli’yiir.”

Chelsea stared blankly at her daughter. Esesra said no more; there wasn’t much more to be said. Chelsea stuttered, “The rumors… the rumors about the kidnapping. They’re true?”

Esesra nodded. Chelsea slumped back unladylike against her chair. “Mother?” Esesra asked, concerned.

Chelsea waved her hand. “I’m alright. I…” She gathered her own thoughts. “I would be lying if I said this was a complete shock to me. Ever since you found that wooden sword and shield in storage, you wouldn’t put them down! You were so adorable.”

Esesra smiled along with her mother. Said toys were hidden away deep within her closet. Both women remembered the adventures Esesra had had with them; Esesra knew exactly how much in the dark her mother was about the extent to which she had played with them. She had gone great lengths to retrieve them from the trash the day her mother threw them out.

Chelsea straightened up. “You always did like them more than your dolls.” Esesra sheepishly smiled. “Are you sure this is what you want? Wouldn’t you rather settle down with a nice gentleman and live out the rest of your life in comfort, giving me grandchildren and great-grandchildren? Being a Voli’yiir will be a hard life.”

Mother watched as daughter tried to hide her distaste. “No Mother. I do not want to marry a man, whom I could learn to love,” Esesra conceded that point, “and be reduced to parties and children. I want to take up the sword to defend those who cannot defend themselves. I want to help other people.”

“You believe picking up a weapon and becoming a Voli’yiir is the right way to help others?”

“Yes.”

There was no bravado, no fluff. Her daughter, her precious little girl, really did want to live the life of a soldier. Chelsea bowed her head. “I knew this day would come. The second I told you those wooden toys weren’t proper for little girls; I knew this day would come. I made it worse by continuing to allow you to play with them. I tried to curb it…”

“It’s not your fault…!”

Chelsea laughed through her tears. “Oh, I know. You have so much of your father in you…” She knew the true comparison was lost on Esesra. “So much like your mother,” she whispered tearfully.

Esesra did not question why her mother had chosen to word her compliment in such a way. Her mother just had her worldview shaken and was now in tears. Esesra wouldn’t nitpick her mother’s word choice now.

“I want you to be happy, Esesra. If you truly believe this is what you want, I won’t stand in your way. Society will be enough of an obstacle.”

Esesra flew into her mother’s arms. “Thank you so much!”

Chelsea dried her eyes. “Besides, those Voli’yiir men look wonderfully attractive in those uniforms. You’ll be up close and personal with them.”

“Mother!”

~*~

Delma arrived home later that evening to find the two most important women in his life chattering away in the tea room, the remains of dinner in front of them. “I take it everything went well?”

Esesra nodded, her smile wide.

“Delma, you knew?”

“Er…”

Chelsea rose and kissed her husband.

“I’m forgiven then? I won’t have to sleep in the parlor?”

Chelsea laughed. “Yes dear. I forgive you. Don’t worry; I won’t kick you out of our bedroom.”

Delma sighed in relief. He turned to his daughter. “I suggest you prepare yourself for tomorrow and go to bed early. Don’t each a large breakfast, either,” he instructed.

Both women looked at him quizzically.

“Why?”

Delma dropped the joking attitude, telling his wife and daughter in all seriousness. “Tomorrow I will test you, Esesra. I bring my report to the king after dinner tomorrow night. I need to give him an accurate description of your skill if he is to allow you to join the Voli’yiir.” 

“Tomorrow?” Esesra squeaked. Her father nodded. Her eyes went wide. She bowed formally at the waist to her parents, then kissed them and bid them goodnight.

Delma and Chelsea watched their daughter ascend the stairs.

~*~

Delma was a bit surprised to find Esesra in the Amia training room after he had finished his breakfast. He had eaten at the usual hour, thought without his usual companion. Now he knew why. The cook had informed him that Esesra had eaten an hour earlier.

He was surprised to see that Esesra was wearing a servant’s pair of pants and shirt. She had apparently borrowed a belt as well. The clothes hung loosely from her feminine frame. They fit her well enough; she must have put her sewing lessons to good use.

Delma was a bit shocked to see that she already had sword in hand. If he was seeing correctly, she was already at stage three of the Ponj warm-up. She had the forms nearly correct, too.

Delma stood, spellbound, for several minutes. Chelsea had once told him that Esesra had excellent grace, poise, and memory for dance. Her dance instructor had agreed. Delma had heard but not understood. Now he did. The same statement could be applied to swordplay for her.

Esesra completed the warm-up form and heard someone clear their throat behind her. She turned and saw her father. His face was blank, but the creases around his eyes showed his surprise and pleasure.

“Good morning Father.”

“How do you know the five stages of the Ponj warm-up?”

“The what?”

Delma started. ‘How could she have learned the Ponj so well without knowing what it is called?’ He blinked at his daughter. He gestured at her stance. “The warm-up routine you were just doing.”

Esesra looked sheepish. “Every tournament year, since I was seven, I’ve climbed up one of the roofs around the arena during their practice. I’ve seen this warm-up, and practiced it, since then.”

“You’ve been watching the preliminaries since you were seven?” His daughter nodded. “Then you must know far more than I thought. I was under the impression the swordplay was a slight interest at that time in your life.”

“I did try to hide it.”

Delma nodded, understanding. He smiled. “Don’t hide it anymore. Give everything you have.” He drew his sword and bowed to his daughter.

She bowed in turn and they began.

~*~

Delma wasn’t sure how to begin this meeting with the king. While he was sure he hadn’t misinterpreted the gleam in his friend’s eyes the day after the kidnapping, he wasn’t sure how to proceed. He had other matters, real matters of actual importance, to discuss with the king, of course. Delma nervously shuffled the papers in front of him.

King Garath allowed his Captain of the Guard to fidget for a few moments, slightly enjoying the entertainment. Delma hadn’t been so speechless since… Garath wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the man speechless. Of course, always having some plan (or at least, always acting like it) was what made Delma Amia the perfect candidate for the job. Sure that he knew the matter Delma was hesitant to broach, Garath cut his friend some slack. “Lynores told me Esesra requested an extended lunch break to discuss a very important matter with you a few weeks ago. Has the matter reached a resolution?”

Delma knew by the king’s diction that Lynores had shared the matter in full with her father. He also discerned that Esesra had the eldest princess’ support. Airja would easily back her best friend as well as her older sister. He drew in a breath and told his king and friend of the discussion and test he had with his daughter.

“And you believe she has skill?”

“Oh yes, raw and untrained. But it is there.”

“The tournaments are next month. What do you think is the best course of action?”

“Esesra won’t participate this year. Every single entrant has at best five years of training on her, if not more. She will train for the next two years. Then she will enter the tournaments.”

The king nodded and the men set about drafting documents that would allow Esesra Klairita Amia to become the first woman entrant into the Trellyxian tournaments.

~*~

Esesra couldn’t contain her excitement when her father told her the news the next day. Between her head of the handmaidens duties, preparation for Lynores’ wedding, Airja beginning to take suitors, and sword training, she would be very busy. She received permission from the princesses and the king to cut back her handmaiden hours to train.

Any spare moment Esesra scraped up was used to help Lynores prepare for the engagement and then the wedding. Lynores had asked her sister and their best friend to head the wedding preparations. Esesra found herself constantly busy, her schedule full to bursting. Sometimes she didn’t sleep enough, but that was a price she was willing to pay. 

For the first time in her life, Esesra found herself truly happy. 

She had found her true self.


	12. Chapter XII

Chapter XII

Esesra pushed an errant blonde strand of hair from her eyes. After the first few weeks of training two years ago, it became obvious that her bangs were going to have to go. They got in her vision far too often. She had dabbled a little in finding different ways to bind all of her hair out of her eyes. Her experiments had given her varying results. For the tournament today, she had settled on the tried and true method of a simple ponytail, usually worn by servants.

She took a moment to look around the stadium. She had attended the final tournaments before, always in the royal box with Lynores and later Airja joined them. She had always dreamed of being a participant instead of in the audience. And now, after years of dreaming and two years of sweat, blood, and hard work, here she stood. 

She resisted the temptation to wave back at Airja in the royal box. Her arm was waving back and forth with so much vigor that her entire body moved as well. Her companion looked disdainfully down his nose in Esesra’s general direction. Prince Haimyr Grym of Walgrïm was the king’s current suitor for Airja. As soon as she’d seen him glaring at her earlier; Airja pointing at her friend, probably explaining how and why a woman was participating in the tournaments; the scowl had not left his face. King Garath knew that the courtship wasn’t going to work out, Esesra was sure. He was merely playing nice with Walgrïm.

Esesra had been overjoyed when Lynores had shown up for the last two days of the preliminaries last week. Her husband of one year, Prince Danal Ishi, First Born of Ishilm, had proven his love for Trellyx’s eldest princess and tolerance for a woman handling a sword by allowing Lynores to attend the tournaments, as well as coming along himself a few days later. Lynores had arrived at the arena just after breakfast that morning; just barely in time to watch the opening match. Danal and Lynores had moved their chairs in the royal box in order to be as close as possible to the action. Esesra had smiled. She had also managed to notice during her rest periods how Lynores frequently placed her hands on her stomach; Danal too. Esesra had only smiled wider.

Her mother sat with Queen Xavia and King Garath. Chelsea Amia rarely attended the tournaments. She was married and therefore never came to watch the participants, as did all the single females in the audience. Today, she came to support her daughter and husband. Her familiarity with the queen was the only reason she was seated in the top box. While she had given her permission to her daughter, she had only half-heartedly given her blessing. Esesra had never glimpsed her talking, but she did attempt to clap animatedly when Esesra won her first two matches. Esesra assumed her mother spoke with the queen when Esesra was taking a break. It was far too unlike her mother to not talk.

The preliminaries over the past three weeks had not been easy. Esesra was still nursing a rather large bruise on her upper left arm. It had been no surprise that she was left-handed in swordsmanship. She had always been left hand dominant, no matter how her mother and penmanship instructor had tried to teach her to use her right hand. She had fumbled in the beginning; right-handedness dominated the world and no one knew how to teach someone different. Esesra had eventually learned to use her left hand. She had struggled with learning to handle a sword with her left hand, but again she had persevered. Her left-handedness had been a bit of an advantage to her; most knights were right-handed and therefore fighting styles were based on disarming a right-handed opponent. Of course, strategy was also taught; her training mates and opponents had quickly hurdled both obstacles of her gender and left-handedness. 

Of course, her difference had also forged within her a desire to know how to wield a sword with her right hand as well. While not as adept right-handed as left, she was proficient fighting right-handed as well. Esesra wanted to keep her left-hand domination a secret as far as she could (which wasn’t far among the trainees), so she wore her scabbard on her left hip and usually fought right-handed.

Esesra had placed within the top thirty percentile out of two hundred entrants of the preliminary tournaments. (Many years ago, her father had explained that exact numbers and positions were not given out because the tournaments were not a contest.) Only half of the original two hundred entrants ever made it to the final week of the tournaments. Very few of that one hundred made it past the infantry. A handful here and there made it to the Valen or palace guard. It was very rare for someone to go straight to entering the Voli’yiir.

Esesra was aiming for a position among the Valen. There were no rumors of war and the palace guard rarely had any excitement. As a street guard, Esesra would be doing something. Hopefully, after a few years of experience, she would gain a position among the Voli’yiir.

The trumpet sounded and the announcer called her name and the name of her next opponent. Her name coming first meant that she had more victories. The name rang a familiar bell, two in fact. Hoel Corbin had been a bit of a bully during her childhood. Esesra had crossed wooden blades with him many times. She had crossed real blades with him over the past three weeks. She was a little surprised to see him in the finals week. (A list of the final week contestants was never posted; this usually prevented rivalries and fights. Of course, those that did make it talked; no one but her father spoke to Esesra when it came to her training mates.) Hoel had never shown any unnecessary anger towards Esesra.

The other name that was connected with Hoel Corbin’s was Darian Corbin, Hoel’s older brother. Darian Hoel: disgraced Trellyxian citizen. He was still in jail for attempting to kidnap the princesses. Darian Corbin’s involvement had been kept quiet to save his family’s honor and reputation.

While Hoel had never shown a grudge, Esesra’s strategy training guided her to keep the possible extra anger in mind while fighting him in the public eye. He had never done anything in the past, but it never hurt to be prepared.

Esesra needn’t have worried: after several minutes he was disarmed without any fanfare. “Finished!” the announcer yelled. Hoel Corbin always fought too recklessly. Esesra’s spats with him as a child had paved the way for easy defeats when the two of them fought during her training period. Hoel was nowhere near as reckless as Darian, but the younger Corbin brother was still reckless.

The crowd cheered. Esesra glanced at her father and again saw him, notebook tucked under an elbow, clapping. He was not always the official observer of her fights, for the obvious reason of avoiding favoritism. When he was, he always refrained from being too supportive. Esesra could tell by the light in his eyes though; he was proud of her.

The day ended with three wins and one loss to Esesra’s name. She met with her parents, the princesses, Danal and Prince Haimyr for dinner. Airja dutifully passed along her parents’ congratulations to Esesra. Most everyone else did as well, with the exception of Haimyr. The men spent the majority of dinner repeating events of the day’s tournament, most of them highlighting Esesra. Prince Haimyr excused himself after the salad course, complaining of fatigue. No one was sorry to see him go.

“The man is a storm cloud,” Airja complained.

“When does he leave?” Esesra beat Lynores to the question.

Airja stuck her tongue out as if the salad was distasteful. “After the tournament.”

“Yuck,” Lynores and Esesra agreed.

Esesra turned to Lynores. This was the first time the two of them had managed to spend real time together since Lynores’ arrival. “So…? How far along are you?”

Lynores tried to feign ignorance. “How far along am I in what?”

Esesra poked her friend. “You’re pregnant, don’t deny it!”

Lynores and Airja laughed. “Sister never could pull the cloth over your eyes, Esesra.”

“I’m about three months along.” Lynores put a finger to her lips and looked directly at her sister, but she spoke to Esesra. “Father and Danal want to keep it a secret for a few more months, just in case.”

Airja giggled while Esesra mimed locking her lips and tossing an imaginary key over her shoulder.

“Danal has to return to Ishilm tomorrow, but he’ll be back for the placement ceremonies. He wanted to show his support for me and Esesra, so he cleared his schedule and came today,” Lynores told Esesra.

“I’m glad to know that your husband not only allowed you to come and watch me, but he’s tolerant of a woman becoming a soldier. Methinks your father picked you a good man, Lynores.”

~*~

The tournament finals week ended with Esesra in the top twenty percentile. (In private her father told her she was in the top thirteen.) Delma and his closest friends, advisors, and the king spent the next three days haggling and deliberating on whom to place where. Delma came home after the final meeting with a smile on his face. He wouldn’t tell Esesra her position, however; she would wait until the announcement ceremony with the rest of the contestants. No one would be able to blame Delma Amia, Captain of the Trellyxian Guard, of giving special attention to his daughter.

The announcement ceremony was mostly an excuse for the palace to host a large, elegant party and for the majority of Trellyxian nobility to attend. Asturia was the only country that rivaled Trellyx in frequency and extravagance of parties. Asturia was a far bigger country and therefore won by default. Of course, there wasn’t any sort of contest.

The announcement ceremony always began with drink and chatter. Then the one hundred final entrants were announced as they arrived, followed by the usual Trellyxian dinner. Then the entrants’ names were announced in alphabetical order, along with their new positions. A night of dancing and light drinking finished the festivities. 

Esesra tried to hide her nervousness, her hands twisting together under the table. She almost wished for her bangs. Her father was giving the announcements as usual. However, he was nearly through the entire list and had not said her name. There could be no mistake; Esesra knew she had been skipped for a reason. But what?

Her mother placed a calming hand one her elbow and Esesra stopped fidgeting with her hands.

Her father finished reading his list and turned, bowing to the king. King Garath rose and cleared his throat. “Lords, ladies, and fine tournament champions; I am sure that no one present here tonight missed the absence of Lady Esesra Amia’s name. After much deliberation, it has been decided that Lady Esesra shall take up position as the Princess Airja’s personal guard. Lady Esesra will continue to retain her position as head of the handmaidens. And now,” he turned to Esesra, “Lady Esesra, please approach so to be knighted.” 

Esesra mentally reminded herself not to scrape her chair when she pushed it back. She kept her head high and walked to the royals’ table. A servant handed the king the special sword used in such events and King Garath drew it. “Bow, noble lady.” 

Esesra did so, feeling for the first time a little embarrassed by the attention; the entire room was watching her, the dining hall completely silent. 

“Esesra Klairita Amia, daughter of Sir Delma Amia, Captain of the Guard and Lady Chelsea Amia, I now knight you, and these witnesses present shall attest to the honor and respectability you receive in this act.” He tapped the sword to her left shoulder, acknowledging her difference in dominant hand as well as a woman, then her right. “Rise, Knight Amia.” 

Esesra stood and the audience applauded. Garath smiled at her and handed her a goblet. He picked up his own goblet. “And now, I propose a toast to the first official female knight within the known countries of Gaea.” Everyone in the room took up their own goblets. King Garath looked directly at Esesra. “To Knight Lady Esesra, may she live long under Teradosq with many blessings.” Several hundred voices repeated the toast and drank.

The room shook with applause as Esesra walked back to her table. She broke out in a smile. Airja leapt from the royal table after her and took up her friend in a fierce embrace. Both women laughed at their good fortune.

~*~

“So why did King Garath make this decision?” Esesra asked her father on the carriage ride home very early the next morning.

“Queen Xavia gave him the idea, actually. She made a comment along the lines of she wished that you could be by Airja’s side throughout her suitors fawning over her after the kidnapping. In a far more protective capacity than as her handmaiden,” he clarified. Delma continued. “Also in this manner, he can kill two birds with one stone; or I should say three: Airja has a friend, a handmaiden escort, and a personal guard at all times.” He beamed at his daughter.

“Especially while suitors are visiting; the king can gain some insight into the men based on how they treat Esesra,” Chelsea commented.

Delma looked thoughtful. “You may be onto something, dear. That probably crossed the king and queen’s minds.” He kissed his wife’s forehead.

“We are both very proud of you, Esesra.”

She smiled.


	13. Chapter XIII

Chapter XIII

Timothy Delveny enjoyed breaking the silly social norms, Esesra quickly learned. Two months after her appointment as Airja’s private guard found her tagging along on possible suitor outings for the youngest princess. She assumed as with the Walgrïmian Prince Haimyr, the king was merely keeping his options open. Timothy Delveny was not of noble blood, nor was he Trellyxian. He was a very rich merchant of Asturia. He came from a very old, very wealthy and powerful family but Esesra saw no reason for such a union. There was little, if anything, to be gained by Airja marrying him. Esesra suspected the king was getting a feel for Airja’s tastes in men.

Timothy Delveny was, if not Airja’s possible husband, a good man. Esesra remembered him from her coa party as the only man who had asked her questions about herself, instead of his own promotion. Currently, they were at the theater watching a play about a war from long ago, featuring Draconians, Merpeople, and other fantasy elements. The theater boarded the line of K’Shied that separated nobility from poverty. Airja had been all for the excursion and odd play. Esesra had only agreed on the count of a Voli’yiir as well as Timothy Delveny’s own personal guard as an escort. Airja had huffed; Timothy Delveny had tipped his head and said “As the Lady Knight Esesra commands.”

Currently, he was rather ignoring the princess and the play in favor of asking Esesra to repeat her feats of the tournament. Esesra had blushed at the attention but with some prodding from both Airja and Timothy, she recounted her endeavors. No one really cared about the focus of Timothy’s attentions; Airja seemed to enjoy listening to Timothy’s guard tell merchant stories about far off, exotic lands.

“Wow,” Timothy breathed as Esesra finished another account. “I heard you were good, but I didn’t realize you were that skilled. You defeated Nock with a Belné move, correct?”

Esesra stared at him, stunned. The known countries had heard the rumor of a female participant in the Trellyxian tournaments, of course. But how could he possibly have known such an intimate detail? She certainly hadn’t mentioned it. Esesra asked him, a bit defensively.

He grinned. “That’s what makes you good; you’re always on your toes, always thinking.” Esesra blushed at the compliment. “I have friends in Trellyx, citizens, who saw the match. They sent me a first-hand account, very detailed. You – ” 

“Why?”

Timothy saw Esesra’s hard eyes and understood. He put all fun and games aside and told her the truth. “I have a bit of a network; I like to be kept informed. I promise on Jeture, Teradosq, and Escaflowne that I do not have a spy network to… overthrow a county, your country, or some other atrocity.”

Esesra searched his face, then nodded; she accepted his explanation. 

“You are a very bright young women. I’m sure you’ve turned down large sums to privately protect wealthy persons already, so I won’t bother offering.”

Esesra chuckled. She was also pleased that Timothy hadn’t made any sort of crude remark about a female guard for hire in the employ of a male protectee. She had heard far too many of those ‘offers’ already.

Something else he had said made the wheels of her mind turn.

~*~

“Megera, does my father or the king employ a spy network?”

Megera’s eyes went wide. The cook’s help was up to her elbows in flour early in the morning and the Amia girl wanted to know about spy networks! “People will hear you!”

“No they won’t. Megera, it’s no secret that you and I know each other. You’ve given the princesses and I sweets and bits of dough since I was four.”

Megera’s eyes darted around the kitchen. No one seemed to be listening in on their conversation; all of the kitchen workers were hard at work with their own jobs. Still, if Esesra was asking that meant she hadn’t been told. “Why don’t you ask your father?”

“Ah, avoidance of the question. Thanks for the confirmation.” Megera’s eyes widened in fear. She kept pounding at the dough for breakfast. Esesra laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you didn’t let the secret slip. Of course, I’m sure it’s a given; the spy network I mean. Anyone who worries about a country or its royalty like Father and the king probably has an extensive network. What I want from you isn’t confirmation.”

Megera slapped Esesra’s hand from the dough as she eyeballed the younger woman. “What do you want?”

“I want you to be part of mine.”

Megera’s jaw dropped. “Your…?”

“My spy network. I already inadvertently have one through the handmaidens. As Airja’s personal guard, I think I should build my own network.”

“You can’t be serious! What could I possibly tell you?”

Esesra shrugged. “You hear kitchen gossip. I know you sometimes serve meals or set up the dining room. You could hear or see a lot. I’m sure if you did hear or see anything, you’d tell the royal spy network. But it might help if another person was in on it. To protect the princess and prince.”

“You do realize that, hypothetically speaking, if I am part of a spy network I’d have to tell someone you’re creating your own.”

Esesra nodded. “Of course. I think that’s Father’s plan, anyway.”

Megera let go of the charade. “Delma would be very proud of you. Good guess, coming to me.”

Esesra winked at the kitchenmaid. Snitching a bit of dough, she turned on her heel to leave. “I didn’t guess, I knew.”

Shouting across the entire kitchen would have attracted far too much attention. Megera wondered if the Amia girl had planned that. She smiled. Esesra was certainly her father’s daughter.

~*~

“You wanted to talk to me about something?” Lunette asked, closing the door to Esesra’s tiny closet of an office behind her.

Esesra looked up from her paperwork and nodded to the younger handmaiden. “Yes, but I’m waiting for lunch to arrive, so for now tell me how you’re getting along in your new position?” Denira had requested maternity leave and another of the princess’ handmaidens as well as one of the queen’s handmaidens were on sick leave. Esesra had found herself at least one handmaiden too many short. She had requested permission from King Garath himself to hire Lunette; the girl was a bit young for the position. But she had been a childhood friend, despite the fact that her family was on the lower end of the high society of K’Shied. The king had agreed on account of Esesra’s testimony to the girl’s hardworking attitude.

That was three weeks ago. After her talk with Megera and her father’s numerous hints of a spy network, Esesra had decided Lunette was the perfect handmaiden spy. Small, quiet, but a good memory. Esesra was just waiting for lunch to be delivered. If her father was watching her movements like she thought he was, the kitchen staff that delivered lunch would be a member of her father’s network. Esesra was sure her father was keeping tabs on her and she wanted to test her skills.

Lunette smiled shyly. “I appreciate it very much, Lady Esesra. I’m – ”

Esesra waved her hand, cutting Lunette off. “I know propriety and etiquette and all that dictate you call me ‘Lady’ and that; but you’ve heard the other handmaidens drop my title. Besides, we’re friends. Just call me ‘Esesra.’”

“La – ” 

Esesra held up her hand. “Don’t make me turn it into an order.” She winked.

“Alright Essie, if you insist.”

Esesra sighed dramatically and placed her head on the desk. “I’m never going to get away from that nickname, am I?” She picked her head back up.

Lunette giggled and Esesra chuckled.

“You were saying about your position?” Esesra prompted.

“Oh, yes. I enjoy it very much, Essie. It is so nice to be able to be with all of you girls again. I’m especially enjoying – ”

A knock came at the door. “Come in,” Esesra called. A kitchenmaid entered; Esesra didn’t know her name or her face. ‘Damn. I’m going to have to try to memorize the faces of the kitchen staff… I wonder if father has files on the entire palace staff? Poor Father…’ “Thank you…?”

The maid placed the tray of food on Esesra’s desk, wary of the paperwork. She curtsied. “Maria, miss.”

“Thank you Maria. Please tell the cook that I appreciate the spiced duck.”

“You’re welcome, Lady Esesra. I will be sure to pass the message along.” Maria curtsied again and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Esesra silently stood and casually leaned against the door, motioning for Lunette to continue. The younger girl followed social rules and waited for her host to serve the food. “As I was saying, I enjoy being with the girls again. And I love seeing Princess Airja’s closets; you were right, she must have over a hundred gowns in there!”

Esesra smiled at the memory. She had been twelve when she’d told an eight-year-old Lunette about the younger princess’ many, many dresses. Lunette had remembered Esesra’s exact words, too. But Esesra didn’t need proof of the younger girl’s memory abilities. She turned and opened the door, peering in the general direction of the kitchens. 

“Esesra, what are you doing?”

She shifted her eyes to the other end of the long hall. The tip of a brown dress – kitchen colors – disappeared around the corner. That end of the hall led in the general direction of her father’s palace office.

Just as she suspected.

It didn’t necessarily prove that Maria was reporting to her father. But she had been listening at the door. Esesra’s office was closer to one end of the hall – the end closer to the kitchens. It shouldn’t have taken Maria so long to get to the other end of the hall; unless she had made a stop somewhere along the line… or hadn’t moved quickly away from Esesra’s own door.

Maria possibly had other errands to run on the other side of the castle.

Possibly. Doubted.

Esesra’s gut told her the older woman was one of her father’s spies.

She closed the door.

“Esesra, what is going on? Was she listening in on our conversation? Why would she do that?” Lunette’s eyes were wide and worried; her voice wavered as she asked her questions.

Esesra saw back down at her desk and nonchalantly handed the younger girl a plate of steaming food. “Yes, I believe she was listening.” Esesra said calmly, then sipped from her cup.

Lunette dropped her plate on the desk. Esesra was thankful none of the food could splatter; her paperwork wouldn’t have survived that. She hurried to calm the other girl. “Father has been giving me hints about his spy network and that I should begin creating my own. That’s why I asked you here.”

“You – spies? What?”

“I want you to be more than just a handmaiden. Do more than just help dress the princess and gossip with the other women. All those who work within the palace are its eyes and ears. I want you to keep an eye out and tell me of anything out of the ordinary.”

“Nothing – nothing dangerous? Or illegal?” Lunette had calmed down a bit and picked up her plate.

“Of course not.”

~*~

“So darling, how did your outing with Sir Jessup go?”

Esesra scowled and sat in a chair near her mother in the tea room. She began removing the jewelry her mother claimed she had to wear, especially if Esesra insisted on wearing such a plain dress. “He wasn’t interested in me at all, Mother.” She refused to fume. “Some of the Valen had a bet going. They didn’t think I’d last very long as Airja’s personal guard. So Jessup was elected to take me to dinner and do some digging.”

Chelsea gasped. “Of all the nerve…!” She stood, hands on her hips. “They can’t treat you this way! Your father is their employer! I’ll have Delma – !”

“No,” Esesra firmly stated. “It was a joke to them. I won’t have them punished for a simple laugh because I am a woman in a man’s world. I can’t have Father giving me special treatment, either. They are having fun at my expense, I shall be the one to handle it.” She gave her mother a pointed look.

Chelsea sat back in her chair, acknowledging her daughter’s decision.

‘Good thing I didn’t tell her that some of the Valen wanted to know what Airja sleeps in. Mother would have heart troubles. Stupid men.’ 

~*~

Esesra stood several feet from the throne dais, eyes on the double doors. She was focused, waiting like everyone else in the room, but she still managed to catch one of the magistrates itch his nose from the corner of her eye. A cold was going around; it appeared that he would be its next victim.

The double doors opened and a page announced the entrance of Brune Shtah, Second Prince of Stahl. Esesra could tell from the way he walked to the throne dais and the way his eyes immediately focused on Airja that he was a good man. He walked tall and straight, aware that his position demanded respect but he wanted to prove he earned and deserved it.

Esesra had a feeling she was going to like this man. 

~*~

Five months after Prince Brune had strode into the throne room, nineteen-year-old Esesra watched as he and Airja sat on a blanket near a river a few miles from the castle. Esesra was happy watching them talk, his hand on hers, their eyes locked. A small pang went through her heart. ‘Will anyone ever look at me that way?’ 

Airja gasped and Esesra snapped out of her thoughts. Left hand already on the hilt of her sword, her eyes scanned the area and then focused on the couple. She mentally slapped herself and relaxed. Airja had gasped for the exact reason the two of them were alone, save for Esesra more than fifty paces away, on a blanket near the river.

The man had done nothing but prove himself time and again since his first visit. After a few days he had waved away his small personal guard; saying if the king trusted only Esesra to protect Airja, so did he. Prince Brune set himself apart from all other suitors by writing (terrible) poetry, sending flowers all the time, and attempting to serenade his princess. He had sworn Esesra to secrecy on that last one; though Esesra told him he had a decent voice. 

Prince Brune even took it upon himself to request an audience with the king, queen, and herself – all separately – to ask their truthful opinion of him. Esesra knew that if Lynores had been there, he would have met with her as well. Though indirectly through Esesra, he had. Esesra was sure he knew she was trading letters with the elder princess; he had dropped hints but made sure to tell Esesra that he wanted her personal opinions. (He hadn’t asked about the letters right out to keep from being rude; knowing Esesra’s personal life. Esesra had laughed and told him to work on his playing face.)

Two days ago Prince Brune had spoken to her first, before the king and queen, about proposing. Esesra had given her blessing and appreciation for being treated as an equal. He had gone straight to King Garath, and Queen Xavia after that, attempting to pull the king from a meeting in his joy.

And now here they were; a shining ring on Airja’s finger. Esesra turned away as the couple kissed deeply.

~*~

A knock came at Esesra’s office door. The words of her wedding preparations swam before her eyes as she looked at the clock. ‘Who is wandering the castle halls at the tenth hour?’ “Come in.”

The door opened and Esesra was surprised to see Timothy Delveny at her door, head to the hall and arm gesturing. “I saw the light under the door and I thought, ‘Oh, thank Jeture, a savior!’ I got lost, see…” He turned and faced into the office. “Oh! Lady Knight Esesra Amia, female soldier, yes?”

‘Always breaking social norms,’ she chuckled to herself. “You got lost?”

“Yes! All palaces are the same; twisting, endless halls that look alike!” He waved his arms about wildly. “Asturia, Trellyx, Freid, Basram! All of them! It’s a wonder no one has gone mad or missing in the thousands of years those castles have been around.”

Esesra’s eyebrows raised; she didn’t bother to hide her laughter. “How do you know?”

“Know what?”

Her smiled widened. “That no one has gone insane or gotten lost in a castle? I’m sure that sort of thing would have been left out of the histories.”

His face lit up at the joke and he pointed at her. “Always on your toes. Good point. I – ” 

Both of their stomachs growled and Timothy Delveny laughed. “You missed dinner too, I presume?”

Esesra waved her arm over the paperwork on her desk. “Wedding preparations. You?”

“Ah! Myself as well! Uh, with the Council, I mean. Prince Brune has a taste for Cezarian delicacies, but I’m the only non-Cezarian merchant those bakers will trade with.”

“Ah.”

Their stomachs rumbled again.

“I have an idea. I’ll take you to dinner at a little place I’m sure you’ve never been to,” Timothy suggested. 

‘I’m sure there’s a very valid reason why I’ve never been to this establishment…’ “And why should I accept?”

“As a thank you for leading me through the winding halls of the palace, of course.”

“So you assume I’m going to help you without your asking me for my help?”

He made no joke about how he was foreign nobility in need of an escort and that her honor and duty bound her to help him. He simply apologized for the slip of his tongue and genuinely asked her for help out of the a’cursed maze of a palace.

~*~ 

Esesra knelt low in the near-empty throne room, waiting for the king to acknowledge her. She could feel his eyes on her while he shuffled paperwork around, gathering his thoughts. Finally, he spoke. “Rise, Esesra.” She noted that he had dropped the ‘knight lady’ title. This was a personal meeting. “Yes Sire?” she rose from her kneeling position. 

He steepled his fingers together. “I am contemplating what to do with you after the wedding. I know Airja would enjoy it immensely if I sent you to Stahl with her.” He paused and scratched his head. “But Stahl’s royal court would allow you only as a personal companion to Airja, not her guard. And Lynores would have my head that I hadn’t sent you with her; not to mention your mother would be unhappy to have you away and I would be in need of a new head handmaiden.” He quirked his eyebrows at her. “What am I to do with you?”

Esesra did not bother to hide her surprise at King Garath’s frankness. Her father often spoke of how direct the king was. She didn’t bother with fluff. “I don’t know, Sire.”

“You will retain your head handmaiden duties; that much is clear. But it seems a shame to let your specially-tailored Valen uniform go to waste after only four years; your skills as well.” The corners of his mouth twitched and Esesra understood he was being humorous. “I have an idea, and your father agrees with me, but I want your opinion.” Esesra nodded. The king leaned forward and folded his hands together. “I would like you to be the personal guard to Zatl’s suitresses after Airja’s wedding, when the time comes. That would probably even be extended to being her personal guard after she becomes the Princess Consort. 

“I know that both Danal and Brune spoke extensively with you while they courted my daughters. I also know that you shared all,” his mouth turned up wryly, “of your opinions of the suitors that I picked with my daughters.” He made Esesra squirm for a few seconds before he winked at her. “I happen to have agreed with your assessment of all of those men. Your father also told me of your fledgling spy network, and I approve. You read people well, young Amia, and I am asking you to use that talent in aiding me in finding a wife for my son and the future queen of Trellyx.”

Her shock was too much to hide her gasp. ‘Choose the future queen of my country?’ 

The king outright chortled. It made Esesra feel a bit better and she smiled weakly. “Don’t look like you’ve seen a ghost, child! Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to hand-pick the woman. Simply to… help me prune away the pretty wildflowers to find the beautiful rose jewel among them. You’ll be my eyes and ears of the palace, whispering to me if any of those wildflowers are actually a little… too thorny. Do you understand?”

Esesra solemnly nodded. “When the time comes, I will accept my new position with honor, your majesty.” 

“Excellent! And I even have a few ‘practice’ trials planned before Airja’s wedding.”

~*~

Esesra threw down her salad fork as he made another crude joke about what he had scheduled after dinner; she could show him how she handled a sword. “This dinner is over, and don’t bother to come calling for another.” She stood, the harsh sound of her chair scraping against the floor matching her mood. “I won’t have you attempting to slander my name or my family’s honor. And you can inform your friends that the ‘Comfortable Amia’ works for her position and won’t be tamed by their ilk.” She turned on her heel and walked gracefully from the table. ‘I will not give him the satisfaction of stomping away like a child. But at least I managed to embarrass them first.’ Esesra hid a smirk.

A carriage ride later she entered her home to a cheerfully waiting Mother. ‘And at least gossip hasn’t traveled that fast. Mother and Father will hear the truth from me first.’ 

“It went horribly, Mother,” Esesra began, stopping her mother from bubbling about the outing. “He made crude remarks almost the entire evening. And I would appreciate it if you didn’t accept any more offers without my consent; all of the past few were… less than honorable.”

Her mother’s mouth dropped. “That’s absurd! Gentlemen mistreating my daughter in such a way? All of them?”

“Most of the past several.”

“How do you know?”

“They all acted the same, followed the same pattern. They all came straight to you, not Father or myself. They all acted on their best behavior until they were in the carriage with me. The crudeness was curbed only slightly in public. They call me the ‘Comfortable Amia’ when they think I can’t hear them mumble their thoughts. They have been tossing the rumor between them that I’ve bedded people to get my position and they gossip that I’ll bed any and all of them if they take me to dinner to keep it a secret.”

Chelsea began stammering dramatically. Esesra wished she had curtailed her tongue and chosen more delicate words and phrasing. “When your father hears of this – ”

“You’ll both do nothing. It is my honor and name they are tainting; I will handle the situation.”

Chelsea let go of trying to control her little girl’s life. Esesra wasn’t a little girl anymore. She was swiftly, too swiftly, growing up and proving that she could handle whatever life decided to put as a hindrance in front of her. 

~*~

The following week, several young men of the community approached her in the evening on her way home from the palace. Esesra knew they weren’t stupid enough to attempt anything seriously terrible. She did sense that they wanted to prove they were better and that she should not have her current place in their world.

They did not surround her; she gave them credit for that. But she would keep things on her terms; speaking first. “Which one of you would like to challenge me?” she queried casually, keeping her hands at her side.

The one she had publically humiliated stepped forward. She hid a grin; he was a spoiled young man, the spat would end only too easily in her favor. “Terms?” he asked grudgingly. The men had wanted to issue the challenge, allowing them to choose the form of combat and the winner’s results.

Esesra forced down a smirk. “Gaakii rules of conflict. If I am victorious, you lot leave me along and stop spreading falsehood.”

“And if I am victorious, I will court you for a month.”

She allowed herself to smirk this time. “Agreed.”

He waited for her to draw, as per the usual custom. Esesra smiled. A groan came from within the group. “Gaakii ruling means that the offender draws first, not the issuer.” Her opponent drew his sword.

“And what your friend has neglected to inform you of is that you must duel with your submissive hand,” Esesra informed her opponent.

The male scholar grumbled that she was correct. Her opponent switched hands and Esesra easily drew her sword from her left hip with her left hand. Her opponent watched her twirl it effortlessly. He raised a brow. “My left hand is my dominant hand,” Esesra explained simply.

The fight was over quickly. Usual Trellyxian sword training called for some teaching for fighting with the left – submissive – hand. Her opponent had learned enough to get by. But Esesra was dominantly left-handed and therefore by Gaakii rules must fight with her right hand. Not only was he thrown off by being restricted to his submissive hand but Esesra was a bit ambidextrous in swordfighting. As she had been trained by a right-handed instructor, she had learned the right-handed forms with great success, despite her right hand being submissive. A secret she had kept hidden as much as possible until now but tonight she exploited it to its fullest.

She hadn’t even tried to cheat: Technically, by Trellyxian sword rules, her left hand was considered dominant, though society saw it as the submissive. She fought the duel using her submissive hand.

~*~

“Mother, I’m swiftly nearing my twenty-first year. You know I’m becoming too old to catch a Trellyxian’s eye. And don’t bring up other countries’ customs; I’m well aware that Qertik women and men marry at a late age.”

Her mother opened her mouth but Esesra cut her off. “I won’t leave Trellyx, and I know you don’t want me to, so just drop that argument.” She huffed, half-wishing for her childhood bangs. “Teradosq will bring me and the right man together eventually; stop trying to force it.”

“Ah ha! You said ‘eventually’! I was hoping Princess Airja’s upcoming wedding would stir your feminine instincts! I’ll have grandchildren yet!”

“Mother!”

She smiled triumphantly. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, child.”

Esesra stuck her tongue out. “Alright, fine. You’re partially correct. I’ve had those silly feelings for a while now; I just haven’t found the right man to… help me sort them out. Or the time to deal with them.”

“Yet.”

“Don’t push your blessing. And please stop trying to shove me in the direction you think I should be going. And men at me. Stop shoving men at me. Please.”

Her mother sighed. Throwing up her hands, she turned dramatically and walked from the room. Poking her head back in, she teased, “I wash my hands of you.”

Esesra laughed.

~*~

Esesra watched Princess Marlene Erisha Aston, First Born of Asturia, step down from the leviship. King Aston had insisted that she visit Trellyx instead of Prince Zatl traveling to Asturia; he wanted his daughter to taste life outside of Palas. Trellyx being a near sister country to Asturia made it the perfect choice. Watching Princess Marlene disembark, Esesra almost thought she was looking in a mirror (if Princess Marlene had seen more sun…), therefore proving the mythical relationship between the true countries.

Princess Marlene’s visit was one of formality. It was too early for Prince Zatl to be entertaining suitresses. The visit was one to keep the bond of sisterhood strong between Asturia and Trellyx. King Garath was getting a feel for a wife for Prince Zatl, and a feel for a future queen for Trellyx. And to Esesra, Princess Marlene appeared to need an outing. Her paleness did not match the festive, bright maroon color of her dress. Such a cheerless look did not belong on such a young, beautiful face.

Esesra’s fascination lay with the princess’ personal guard, or rather the Knight Caeli that was in charge. Asturia’s Heavenly Knights were legendary among the known countries of Gaea. They ranked right next to the Three Swordsman of Gaea. She was meeting a Caeli in the flesh; one of the best if she wasn’t mistaken.

Esesra was hopeful that the blonde knight wouldn’t turn down a sparring session with her on account of her gender.

He was polite; she was wrong.

~*~

Esesra sat down at the table and looked Mishka dead in the eye. “I would like to be truthful with you; as I feel you have been fully with me, as well as kind and friendly.”

The Alorian guard gave her a surprised look. “The truth is more appreciable to lies, so please proceed.”

“I only agreed to dinner with you in order to get my mother off my back for the next week.”

Mishka laughed, heartily and full. “I asked you to dinner for the same reason!” Esesra joined in his laughter. “Only my mother will be off my back for only a few hours, at the most!”

After their humorous and truthful opening, dinner was a splendid affair. Mishka insisted on walking Esesra home instead of taking a carriage. In a good mood, Esesra agreed. 

They had been walking for several minutes when Mishka turned to her and said plainly, “I sense that Princess Uli and Prince Zatl are not destined to be together. I also sense that you sense this as well.”

“Maybe not in the way you feel it; the destiny bit, but yes, I agree with you.”

“You do not believe in destiny, Knight Esesra?”

“If you mean reading the stars or bones, no. I believe in making my own way in the world. The gods may have created Gaea and all it holds; someone had to. There may be an entity guiding the world toward good or ill, or both; but I hate to think that I am merely a puppet with someone pulling my strings.”

“And the Trellyxian earth dragon god, Teradosq? Do you not pray?”

“I believe that the gods give hope to those that believe in them. Our Teradosq is not better than your… Nizaime – ” 

“Naizeîm,” Mishka corrected her pronunciation.

Esesra nodded her thanks. “The Alorian Naizeîm or the Fanelian Escaflowne or the Freidan Iishvaraa.” She shrugged. “Maybe the gods and goddesses are all siblings, or even facets of the same god.”

“To each their own; live as thou wilt.”

“As long as it harm none, yes. Why do you ask?”

“Believe what you will, my dear, but I had a dream the night before we arrived in Trellyx. I am going to share a secret with you; I already trust that you will tell no one, baring your father and possibly your king.” She solemnly nodded. “I am second in command to the Steward of the Palace in Aloria. Part of the reason I was sent along as Princess Uli’s personal guard was to make an allegiance with Trellyx. Not a marriage allegiance; the sort of allegiance one who loves and protects his country with his life can make with another person of the same thought.”

“You want me to… us. You want both of us to be in each other’s extended spy network,” Esesra surmised.

“You are a sharp one. Yes, that is my intent. I believe destiny brought you to your position within the palace. It brought us to this night together. I believe there is a darkness coming; not too soon, but it is approaching. It will envelope all of Gaea, and I would like our countries to have whatever small union against it.”

There was a long pause as Esesra mused over his words.

“Turn that frown over child; our Reader believes it is a few years away yet!”

Esesra managed a smile. “To protect our countries that we love.” She held out her hand to the Alorian.

~*~

“Timothy Delveny, are you lost again?”

“Ah, no, actually. I came to Prince Zatl’s rendezvous with Princess Fukel of Sorghol with clear intention.”

Esesra playfully rolled her eyes at his diction. “And what is this ‘clear intention’?”

“To give you a birthday present. Of course, it is very belated.”

Her eyebrows shot up in shock and confusion. ‘He considers us friends to the point of giving me a birthday gift? While I’m on duty no less!’ Esesra shook her head to clear her thoughts. “You may have come here with clear intent but you are obviously not clear-minded. If you knew that Prince Zatl and Princess Fukel were meeting, then you also know that I am on duty.”

“Are you saying I am a distraction?”

She nodded. 

“Then I beg your forgiveness and humbly request that you dine with me this evening.”

Esesra rolled her eyes at his antics. “I already have dinner plans.”

“Might you give me the honor of walking you home then?”

“Persistent aren’t you?”

“That’s why I’m such a fantastic merchant.”

“I don’t know how long my dinner plans will take.”

He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“If you must know, Princess Airja and I will be finalizing wedding plans for next month.”

“Ah! A female wedding discussion! I wouldn’t dream of attempting to pull you away! Tomorrow night then?”

“If you must.”

“I insist!” He gave her a slight bow. “I take my leave of you, Knight Esesra.”

“Good eve, Merchant Delveny.”

He was most of the way down the hall and out of her mind when he tossed over his shoulder, “Master Mishka asked me to tell you, ‘The mist is still blue,’ whatever that means.”

Her head snapped to his retreating form. Esesra’s eyes burned holes in the back of his head, imagining severing his braided hair. She couldn’t say anything; he rounded the corner ‘Is he part of Mishka’s network?’ 

Esesra had a page deliver a message to Timothy and they met for dinner the next evening. She wore everyday clothes and chose a restaurant that her father had told her about. The owner was a long-time friend of her father and part of his network. If Mishka was trying to pass a message, they wouldn’t be overheard. 

Esesra sipped her water, waiting for her dinner companion to arrive. A gray, wrapped box plunked down in front of her and Timothy Delveny slid into the seat opposite her. “Happy belated celebrations of your birth, Lady Knight,” he said, smiling. He flagged over a waitress before Esesra could respond. He ordered for both of them, surprising her when he correctly requested one of her favorite dishes. 

The waitress left and he looked at her expectantly. “Well, open it!”

“Thank you for the well wishes,” she politely spoke.

“Well? What are you waiting for?”

‘Impatient, aren’t we? He acts as if he’s the one getting the gift.’ Esesra proceeded to slowly pull the wrapping from the box. 

“C’mon, faster!” he urged. 

“You’re like a child in a sweets shop,” she chided teasingly and pushed the box away from her. 

Timothy shoved the box back at her, narrowly missing her water glass. She folded her arms. “Party frowner.” Esesra stuck her tongue out at him but resumed removing the paper. 

He had wrapped the box three times, the trickster. Esesra could feel him smiling smugly at her but she kept her calm. After finally removing the last of the wrapping, a low gasp escaped her. The Walgrïmian crest of two crossed swords and two crossed hammers above a smith’s anvil winked up at her. 

Walgrïm’s claim in economy was their weapons craftsmanship and caring kits. Their swords were sharper longer and were stronger than any other countries’ craftsmanship. Their weapon caring kits were renowned for a special, secret oil mixture. Esesra opened the wooden chest and couldn’t hide her delight. “Merchant Timothy of the grand House Delveny of Asturia, I humbly accept this generous gift,” she formally thanked him.

He waved his hand, brushing away her formality. Their waitress arrived with their food. Timothy thanked her, Esesra pushed the chest safely to the side and they both began eating. 

Several minutes went by to the sound of chewing, silverware in plates, and restaurant clamor. Esesra broached the real subject of the evening. “What news from Mishka?”

“Hm? Oh.” He licked the fingers of one hand. “Just the bit about mist,” he answered. 

Esesra rolled the mist message around in her mind. She and Mishka hadn’t discussed code words. ‘“The mist is still blue. The mist is – ’” 

“Don’t think about it too much; your face gets all scrunched up and you lose a bit of your beauty. Besides, I’m just a conveyer of the sentence. I’m not privy to Master Mishka’s hazy dreams. If he had a real message for you, someone much closer to him would have come to you, and with an explanation.” He popped a piece of meat into his mouth.

Her jaw dropped and she stopped cutting her own meat. ‘Timothy Delveny isn’t part of the Alorian spy network? He’s just a messenger? But then what does the message mean?’ 

“I told you not to ruminate on it!”

She gave him a mock glare. 

They continued eating; Timothy tried to describe the great pyramids of Aloria to Esesra. ‘Mishka’s original statement was that he felt a darkness was coming. Mist could be a sort of fog, which in turn is probably connected to darkness. So the “mist is still blue” probably means… Blue is a light, happy color. Not gray or black. Mishka probably means that nothing of great dread is happening yet.’ 

Certain that she had puzzled out Mishka’s riddle and that it was indeed a riddle, she turned her attention to her chattering companion. “So who put you up to it?” she cut him off rudely.

He looked at her, aghast. “Put me up to what?” he queried, placing one hand over his heart.

“Attempting to court me. Your attention to me while ‘out with Airja,’ ‘getting lost,’ and then dinner, the birthday gift and dinner, calling me beautiful. Was it my mother? Or Princess Airja?”

“You wound me, Lady Knight. I fancy us a little more than acquaintances, almost friends. I would like to be. You fascinate me; the first public female knight. Oh, and I want in.”

“In what?”

“Your spy network,” he spoke slightly quieter than he had previously.

Esesra was taken aback at his entire confession. She had thought that either the princess or her mother had put him on to courting her. ‘He’s fascinated by my status? He wants in on my spy network?’ 

Timothy chuckled and grinned. “Think about it,” he said, chewing on his roll. “I’m a merchant, I travel all over the known world. My people go with me. I told you two years ago that I like to be kept informed. We could both benefit from sharing information.” 

She rolled his proposition around in her mind. She stuck her hand out across the table. “To a fruitful friendship.”

He smiled wide and shook her hand.

Esesra paid full attention to his merchant anecdotes for the rest of the evening.


	14. Chapter XIV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter is long... Chapters 14 and 15 were meant to be one chapter, but that would be WAY too long... Oh, and they're a little confusing... Good luck! If you have questions, ask. :)

Chapter XIV

In a country several hundred miles from K’Shied, three men met under the cover of darkness.

“The week of the wedding is the perfect time to strike,” the first said.

“Yes. Everyone will be distracted by the festivities,” the second responded. 

“The plans that our families have been laying down for the last five generations will finally come to fruition,” the first stated.

“Indeed. Our countries have much to gain in this act,” the second agreed.

“None so much as the return of my family’s honor,” the third finally spoke. “Swear to me again that once the act is done and your plans complete our honor will be restored.”

The other two men swore the oath upon the gods of their countries. 

~*~~*~

“Yes?” Esesra asked of the page at her office door.

“I have a message for you from Lady Tabra Nevra.” Esesra nodded for him to continue. “She regrets that family matters have arisen and that she will not be able to cover her handmaiden position today.”

Esesra sighed, glancing at the clock. It was too late to find a substitute for the queen’s handmaiden. She looked back at the page. “This is Lady Nevra’s fourth call-in in two weeks. Please inform her that I must write her up and she will be on probation for the next three weeks. One more and she must be let go. Please also pass along our condolences for her family.”

“Yes, Lady Esesra.”

“Dismissed.” She watched the page close the door. She hadn’t heard any rumor from anywhere about troubles within the Nevra family. Not nary a whisper. Esesra shrugged. Whatever it was, they were keeping the secret well hidden.

~*~~*~

“You are sure she will get us into the palace undetected?” Both men asked the third.

“Yes. She knows all the servants’ passages with her eyes closed. She knows what is at stake, and for herself as well as us. She won’t fail you.”

“Excellent,” the other two sneered.

~*~~*~

Prince Brune Shtah acted like he wanted to earn his title, but Eliph, one of his personal guards, acted like he deserved people’s respect simply because he breathed. After she had first met him, Esesra was immensely glad that he was not Prince of Stahl. She was equally glad that King Garath had decided to keep her stationed in Trellyx instead of sending her to Stahl as a handmaiden to Airja. Eliph frequently complained about how he (not the entire Stahlian personal guard) had been replaced by a girl. Loudly.

Esesra was not surprised to see him ‘scouting’ the palace’s hallways two weeks before Airja’s wedding. (Poking his nose where he was not wanted, but not forbidden to be.) It was not just herself that noticed his habit. The other palace staff noticed as well. Both Lunette and Megara had told Esesra that they’d seen him prowling the corridors, many times a day, several days over the past month.

She did not like it. Megara assured her that Delma was being kept informed. He wasn’t too worried; the man was known for his poking nose almost as much as he was obnoxious. 

Eliph also fancied himself a lady-charmer. Half a dozen times already a few of the handmaidens had been late because they had been caught in his net. Megara complained that he caused crowd build up in the hallways. He had rudely, so he thought, never turned his charms to Esesra; in order to spite her.

Esesra despised the man.

~*~~*~

“The draught is nearly ready?” the first asked.

“Yes. It will be complete tomorrow,” the second replied. 

“The winery knows nothing?” the first queried.

“Not a thing. I have been very careful,” the second assured. 

~*~~*~

“Come in,” Esesra answered the knock at her father’s office door. He was home, very ill, and had requested that she bring home some paperwork when she dropped off her daily report in his office. Esesra tucked her father’s cabinet key under her collar. 

A Stahlian courier, sword strapped to his hip, entered. He checked the hall behind him before closing the door. “You are the Lady Knight Esesra Amia, personal guard to Princess Airja, and daughter of Trellyx’s Captain of the Guard, Delma Amia, correct?”

“I am.” Her curiosity was piqued. Why was a courier looking for her father?

“I have heard said that the palace gardens exalt Teradosq’s majesty this time of year.”

Usually the phrase was ‘the palace gardens are blessedly graced by Teradosq’s divinity.’ The changing of the phrase was deliberate. It was a code her father had once mentioned to her. The speaker was to be obeyed and his requests fulfilled; immediately.

“I have a very important message to give him. One that must go straight to him and that is for his ears only.”

Esesra understood his unspoken predicament and request. He was part of her father’s extended spy network and with her father home sick the courier had no way to meet with Delma without arousing suspicion.

She knew better than to offer to take the message.

“Pretend to be ill and take your dinner privately in your quarters. Spill the food on the floor and call for a maid. I’ll arrange it so that someone my father trusts escorts you to a new room. She will lead you to a secret passage that exits to the stables. I sometimes take a carriage home for dinner; it won’t be too conspicuous if I’m going home in one tonight. I know several stablehands that both my father and I trust; one will be waiting to assist you.”

The courier nodded. “That is satisfactory, Lady Knight Amia. Stahl blesses you. I will see you this evening.”

Esesra nodded. “Let me go out first, I’ll check the hall. There’s a secret passage that leads to the library in a store room a few paces down.”

He looked surprised. “There is no passage within this office, one that belongs to the Captain of the Guard?”

She smiled and shook her head. She had asked that same question, many years ago. Now she repeated her father’s answer: “Far too obvious.”

~*~~*~

“Your men are in place?” the third conspirator asked.

The other two nodded their confirmation. “Do not worry, all will go as planned,” they soothed.

~*~~*~

Timothy Delveny huffed into Esesra’s office. “Well hello Knight Lady.” He closed the door in a hurry.

Esesra looked up. He hadn’t bothered to knock, a social norm he had never ignored in the past. Something was up.

Timothy swiftly moved around her desk and bent over, his mouth by her ear. “One of my secretaries told me that one of the palace staff saw Eliph speaking with a handmaiden.”

She shrugged. “Old news, Timothy. Tell me something I don’t know so that I’ll forgive you for barging into my office so rudely.”

“He was talking with the Lady Nevra. Tabra Nevra. I’m told she’s been away for a few weeks.”

“That woman is going to get an earful; she’s on probation, as I’m sure you know,” she shot him a look. “I’m waiting.”

“My secretary followed them. Why would Lady Nevra be showing Eliph a secret passage?”

Now he had her full attention. “Where were they seen?”

“Along the fourth floor hall between the Councilors’ Hall and the Grand Secretarial Offices. Am I forgiven?”

Esesra distractedly nodded her head, her thoughts running along the secret passages connected to that hallway and their endings, as well as the handful of other passageways that were linked to that specific passageway. “One of them goes near the Treasury. But Eliph would have to have many of Father’s trusted men in his pocket. Or drugged them; but that’s too noticeable.”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

She shook her head.

“Dinner? It is our usual habit.”

“No. I’m going home tonight. And I have… special… plans.”

“Oh? Something is afoot!”

“Something.” She glanced at the clock. “I have to go or I will be late. Would you please find Lunette and ask her to remind Hajar to be on time tomorrow to press Princess Airja’s dress? Hajar is always late,” Esesra requested, gathering her papers. 

“And if I am asked where I am going?”

“You’re looking for me and got lost.”

“Ah! I bid you good evening, Knight Lady.”

“The same to you, Merchant Delveny.”

~*~

Esesra strode easily to the carriage waiting in front of the royal stable, forcing herself to not act like she was hiding anything; looking around would give her dead away. She carefully opened the door, got in, and closed it swiftly. “You had no trouble thus far?” she inquired of her passenger. He shook his head. The carriage ride to her home was silent, save for Esesra asking his name. “Bolic.” “Pity we aren’t meeting under better circumstances.” He simply nodded. 

They exited the carriage under the cover of the Amia carriage house, directly connected to the main manor. Esesra brushed past her mother in the hall on their way to her father’s room. “Esesra, you’re home – Who is this? Why aren’t you showing the guest to the parlor?”

“He has to see Father,” Esesra said pointedly, continuing to walk down the hall. 

“Your father is too sick for visitors.”

“Mother, he has to see Father.”

“What… Oh. I’ll tell the cooks to keep dinner warm.”

“Thank you Mother.”

They arrived at her parents’ bedroom door. “Wait here.” She entered the dark room, found a candle and flint and struck a light. Her father groaned. “Father?”

“Esesra?” he coughed.

“Yes Father, it’s me.”

“What is happening? Why are you here?” He coughed again.

“Father, Bolic, a Stahlian courier is here, he has something very important to tell you.” Her father nodded and propped himself up. He reached for a glass of water as Esesra returned to the door to let Bolic into the room. She began to close the door, herself in the hall, when her father croaked her name. She reopened the door. “Stay.” Esesra obeyed and reentered the room, standing by the door.

Bolic didn’t bother with trivial formalities. “Sir, my people tell me that the Symoinan Family has more than one plot in motion, all culminating with the wedding in two weeks.”

Symoinan. That was a name Esesra was sure she should know. Watching her father’s eyes widen at Bolic’s information triggered one of the princesses’ history lesson she had sat in on many years ago. About five hundred years ago, Symoin was to be the next ruler of Trellyx. Until he was caught attempting to murder his parents, siblings, and his father’s brothers’ families. Almost fifteen people: men, women, and children, nearly died in Symoin’s greed to secure the throne. The royal family was unwilling to spill Symoin’s blood, so he was exiled and his line forbidden to touch the Trellyxian throne. 

That didn’t stop his descendents from trying. There had been two known attempts. While the name had been purposefully dropped by the family in the public eye, the Trellyxian royalty still kept tabs on the family.

“I know all three of us had Eliph watched, though your daughter simply had a small distrust in the man. He has been seen in the company of Kalikil, a low Trellyxian royal secretary; a man we both know tells dark rooms how proudly he traces his Symoinan roots. My fellow couriers tell me he appears in halls without taking normal stairways to get there; as if he were a ghost.”

Delma’s eyes and forehead showed that he was processing Bolic’s statement. Esesra cleared her throat and both men turned to her. Delma nodded, giving her permission to speak. “One of the Queen’s handmaidens, Tabra Nevra, has been showing Eliph some of the secret passages. Eliph must have told Kalikil about them. Asturian Merchant Timothy Delveny, a man I trust, told me this just today.”

Her father coughed. “Esesra, tell the king and Gerard. Have Gerard place guards around the royal family.” Another cough. “Bolic, tell your people that my daughter can be trusted. She has a few – cough, cough – people of her own. Above all, – cough – be discreet.”

Bolic nodded. He and Esesra left the bedroom. “I’ll go back to the palace under the guise of having forgotten something; you remember the secret passage you took to the stables? Good, you can take them back to your rooms. I’ll get secure messages to the king and Gerard.”

Over dinner, they filled Chelsea in on the conspiracy. Esesra and Bolic told each other who they trusted, who they did not, and who had no clue about the palace intrigues. Esesra filled in any blanks in Bolic’s information on the palace guard, the Valen, and the Voli’yiir. Both pondered what handmaiden Tabra Nevra had to do with the conspiracy.

~*~ 

With barely a week left until the wedding and her father still sick, Esesra was beginning to lose sleep over the entire ordeal. Gerard, Delma’s right hand man, had been updated. The royal guard had been put on full alert and any Valen that could be discreetly spared were placed undercover around the king, queen, and Airja. 

Nothing out of the ordinary happened. 

At least all of Esesra’s wedding plans were going smoothly. The union wine, part of the Stahlian wedding tradition, had been a day late. But the weather had been to blame. Esesra had allowed herself five minutes to be annoyed, then moved on.

“Why my Knight Lady, I can see your worry lines all the way over here!”

Esesra scowled at Timothy Delveny at the other end of the hall. “The wedding is six days away,” she said as cover explanation for the Stahlian guard in the hall. Eliph had pulled strings and for the safety of the Stahlian royal family, gotten Stahlian guards posted in nearly every hallway and stairwell of the palace. It was driving Esesra crazy; she couldn’t keep track of who Bolic trusted and who was in Eliph’s pocket. The guard arrangement hindered Esesra and Bolic’s people while doing the exact opposite for Eliph’s people. She downright loathed the man now.

As far as Bolic could tell, Eliph disbelieved Esesra’s talent with the sword, despite all evidence to the contrary. He had no idea of her involvement in Bolic’s spy network and her own network. Esesra was Trellyx’s hidden tactic. Shouting about conspiracies and assassination plots in a public area would certainly give her away. 

Timothy met her in the middle of the hallway and they continued walking in her destination’s direction. “I’m glad I found you before you bit some poor soul’s head off.” The Stahlian guard openly laughed. Yep, he was one of Eliph’s. “Let’s go to Cordiella’s for dinner. We’ll get some alcohol in your system; that will help you take the edge off.”

Esesra glared daggers at the Asturian merchant as the Stahlian guard slapped his thigh in amusement. They turned the corner and Esesra threatened out of the corner of her mouth, “I know at least six ways to kill you. I’ll think of four more by the time we get outside. Keep talking like a fool and I will show you all ten.”

Timothy heartily laughed. It took Esesra a moment to realize he was laughing at himself. It made her feel slightly better. Her annoyance at the merchant was soothed after they were comfortably seated in the carriage and he apologized. “I only said it to throw Eliph’s guard off.”

She punched him in the shoulder. “Ow!” He massaged the offended area. “I guess I deserved that. Even?”

“Yes,” Esesra huffed. 

They rode in silence while Esesra collected her calm.

“You’re really wound up, aren’t you?”

“The wedding is in six days, as I said. Eliph and Kalikil haven’t done anything incriminating. There will be three royal families gathered in K’Shied when Lynores and her family arrive tomorrow; and someone has a plot or more in motion to retake the throne. The lives of the rulers of my country are at stake, not to mention two of them are my best friends. And the Stahlian ceremonial union wine was late because of the damn weather. You tell me why I shouldn’t be wound.”

“Feel better?”

Esesra sighed. Timothy had a way of turning negative situations around. She did feel better. “Yes.”

“Well,” the carriage stopped. “I thought Tabra’s name sounded familiar.” The driver opened the door. Timothy continued after they’d been seated at a table inside Cordiella’s and ordered their dinner. “I did some digging. You know she is married, yes?”

She vaguely remembered reading about Tabra’s marital status in the reports when she had inherited the position of head handmaiden. Esesra nodded.

“Do you know what her maiden name is?”

“No. I don’t remember.”

“Tulloch.”

Esesra dug that family name out of her memory bank with little trouble. “Lisabeth Tulloch.”

Timothy nodded. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of her crimes.” She scoffed, he continued. “It took a lot of digging and bribery, but guess who Lisabeth was going to marry after the kidnapping paid off?”

She blinked in confusion. She hadn’t been close to the other woman. But if her future husband had known about the kidnapping, perhaps even been a part of it… “Darian? Darian Corbin?”

The merchant nodded in confirmation.

Their food arrived. They waited until the waitress left to continue. Esesra once again dug in her memory bank. She came up empty. “I don’t even remember Lisabeth talking about him, let alone seeing him when we were all children.” ‘Well, besides the tournament where Father sent him away in dishonor.’

“That doesn’t help much, though. With why Tabra is helping Eliph, I mean. Now tell me your news. You mentioned Kalikil earlier. Not the same man that traces his lineage back to the infamous Symoin?”

“You once again astound me with your ability to be kept informed.” Esesra updated the merchant on what Bolic had told her and her father a few days ago.

“Ah, I love a good conspiracy mystery. All the twists and turns… I prefer them on the page or stage, fictional; therefore no one actually dies. Less blood, less mess. Your wheels are turning; I see it in your eyes. What is it?”

“Say that again.”

“Literature and theater?”

“No, about mysteries and conspiracies.”

“That they’re twisty and turny?”

“Twists and turns… Tell me again where you said Tabra showed Eliph the entrances to the secret passageways.”

“The fourth floor hall between the Councilors’ Hall and the Grand Secretarial Offices.”

Esesra followed the mental maps her father had insisted she memorize. With Timothy’s new information that connected Tabra to Lisabeth and strengthened the relationship between Lisabeth and Darian Corbin… “Its winding, but that particular passage does lead to the dungeon.”

“You’re thinking part of the conspiracy is for Darian to be sprung from prison?”

“Possibly. It might explain why Tabra is helping Eliph and Kalikil. If any attempt is made for the throne, finding Darian would be a low priority.”

“If King Garath, Queen Xavia, Princess Airja, and most importantly, Prince Zatl die, who ascends the throne?”

“You’re able to dig up family and romantic relationships from at least ten or twelve years ago, and five hundred years ago, but you don’t know who would replace the current rulers?”

“Nope.” Timothy shook his head. “You don’t know either, do you?”

Esesra pursed her lips and glared at him.

“You don’t know either.”

She combed her mind, trying to remember if she had ever been privy to such important, guarded information. “The king has no direct relatives alive. Both King Garath and his father were an only child.”

“Would Princess Lynores take the crown?”

She scrunched up her face in thought. Esesra vaguely caught Timothy making a ‘Don’t do that’ face, but he wisely held his tongue. “It would depend on Ishilm’s laws, I’m sure; I doubt it. Lynores basically forfeits a claim to the Trellyxian Crown, I believe. The Ishilmanite royal line goes through Lynores’ son Ardel now. Being the only Trellyxian royalty still alive, she might have a hand in choosing the next ruler.”

“A part your father would have his hand in as well, yes?”

“Probably. Along with the rest of the Councilors.”

Timothy played with the stubble on his chin.

“Now I see your wheels turning.”

“Well, your father would never allow Kalikil to take the throne, that’s a given. And you’ve never mentioned that anyone thinks your father is being poisoned, he’s just sick. So maybe the assassination of the Treallic royal line isn’t the bigger picture, it is just only a large piece of a bigger puzzle.”

“How so?”

“I’m sure Princess Lynores told you her father-in-law was sick shortly after she arrived yesterday.” Esesra nodded. “She has little idea of what is going on here, so she wouldn’t think it connected and would have no reason to tell you; she wouldn’t want to burden you more. King Claisnet Ishi is being poisoned.”

“And pray tell how you know this.”

“My uncle married an Ishilmanite woman. She was the queen’s personal companion before her death. My uncle, just after the marriage, became King Claisnet’s signet ring keeper, and eventual friend.”

“So you’re thinking that the target may be the Treallic and Ishilm royal lines?”

“Or one is a target and the other a distraction,” Timothy theorized.

“That doesn’t explain why Eliph is helping Kalikil,” Esesra pointed out a flaw in his theory.

The merchant shrugged. “Kalikil promised him something.”

“But what? And who would be Kalikil’s puppet on the Trellyxian throne?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” A long pause ensued while they finished their food, chewing on their thoughts as well. “Did your father happen to tell you that Eliph has Ishilmanite roots as well as Stahlian?”

Esesra nearly choked on her last bit of food. “He what?! No, Father never mentioned it.”

“He may not have known. About four generations ago, Eliph’s family changed their surname and moved, twice.”

“He’s related to Symoin, isn’t he? That’s why he’s helping Kalikil.”

“Most likely.”

She rubbed her temple. “I’m beginning to get a horrible headache from the webs of lies and deceit. And nearly all of it is speculation, anyway.”

Timothy held up his cup and grinned toothily. “Wine?” Esesra scowled. “I’ll tell the King, Gerard, and Father. You get a message to Bolic.”

~*~~*~

“You’re sure all three families must partake of the union ceremony?” A fourth asked.

“Yes. It is tradition,” two of them responded.

The fourth fidgeted.

~*~~*~

Two days before the wedding. Two days. Esesra starred at Lynores, silent tears trailing down their cheeks. Six-year-old Ardel tried to comfort his mother. “They’re going to keep it hidden until we return from the wedding. The king has already been ill” – ‘Poisoned,’ Esesra mentally filled in – “for several weeks. Until the truth is discovered, Rafe’s death will be masked as an accident.”

‘If the truth is ever discovered.’

Lynores and Danal would have to pretend everything was wonderful until they arrived back home. Ishilm’s only surviving royalty was hundreds of miles away. And they were forced to grieve behind closed doors. 

Esesra only half-feigned fatigue to spend the night in her oft-neglected palace quarters instead of traveling home. Luckily, Gerard had kept Eliph’s meddling fingers away from her hall. Three Valen patrolled the hall and stairways that led to her room.

It also allowed Timothy Delveny to visit her without Kalikil hearing about it. Oh, the merchant had to go through Megera and a secret, dusty, cobwebby passageway to get to the Knight Lady without Eliph’s men seeing, of course, but visit her he did.

He forewent any jovial greeting, any joke he could have made. “What happened? Why weren’t you at dinner with the Treallics? Why were they all faux smiles and hollow laughter?”

“Their plan is in motion. King Claisnet and Danal’s younger brother, Prince Rafe, are dead; within days of each other.”

“Oh gods. Prince Rafe as well? Does Bolic know?”

“Lunette is getting the message to him this evening.”

“We have to find the conspirators soon. Whatever is happening, it happens in less than two days and it is going to be monstrous.”

Three soft knocks, then one hard, came at Esesra’s door. Timothy’s head jerked sharply. “Should I hide?”

“No, it is Bolic. Lunette must have told him already. Come in.”

It was indeed the Stahlian courier at her door. He hurried over. “Your handmaiden friend told me of Ishilm’s tragedy. Right after she left, one of my people was rushed in by a kitchenmaid. He had traveled as swiftly as he could, almost foregoing discretion. Lord Q’zar, Brune’s second cousin, is dead; murdered, but covered up very well. Outside of the Stah royal family that is here for the wedding, he was the remaining Stahlian royal bloodline.”

Despite her tiredness, that piece fell into the puzzle quickly and with full clarity for Esesra. “The conspiracy is to kill all three royal families at once,” she gasped.

“Hideous,” Timothy breathed.

“Do you suppose someone is heading the entire conspiracy, or that somehow they are all dovetailing each other?” Esesra asked.

“Do you think it coincidence that Lord Q’zar, King Claisnet, and Prince Rafe died within the same week?” Bolic raised a bit too harshly. 

“Doubted, but possible. Probably not,” Timothy tried to sound neutral.

Esesra mentally forgave the Stahlian his anger. 

Bolic continued, “It can’t possibly be a coincidence. Not when the holders of the Crowns of those two countries are here for a wedding in a country with two men, one living here, with connections back to those countries. That’s too many connections, too many coincidences.”

“Let’s go over the facts,” Timothy suggested.

Esesra found quill, ink, and paper and took notes as the two men rattled off what they knew.

“Eliph is a low-ranking Stahlian soldier, part of Prince Brune’s personal guard. He also has Ishilmanite and Trellyxian roots. He is related to Symoin.

“Kalikil is a low-ranking Trellyxian royal secretary, and he also claims Symoinan lineage.

“Both Eliph and Kalikil could possibly desire the Trellyxian throne, but both would be sorely hindered in acquiring it directly because their Symoinan ancestry is known by the Trellyxian royal family.”

“The King and Second Prince of Ishilm are dead; one poisoned and the other almost outright murdered. Those that claim the right to the Ishilmanite throne; Danal, Lynores, and Ardel Ishi; are here in K’Shied for the wedding.”

“Lord Q’zar, Stahl’s only indirect claim to the throne, is killed within the same week as Ishilm’s King and Second Prince. The Stahlian royal family; its King, Queen, First and Second Princes, and their wife and fiancé; are here for the wedding of the aforementioned Second Prince and fiancé.” 

“On the side, assumedly less important, one of Trellyx’s royal handmaidens is helping the conspirators get through the palace’s secret passageways. Presumably to aid her sisters’ beloved to escape prison behind the scenes.”

“Have we missed anything?” Timothy asked.

Esesra shook her head. “I don’t think so… What trips me up,” she began, “is that neither Eliph nor Kalikil would be allowed Trellyx’s throne. They’d have to kill Father, the Councilors, the Voli’yiir, and at least half the Valen. That’s monumental.”

“‘Monumental,’” Timothy repeated quietly.

“What?” Bolic queried.

“We know that Eliph has roots in all three countries. We all three agree that Eliph and Kalikil appear to be working together and I’m assuming we all three agree that Kalikil is the brains of the two?”

Bolic scoffed, “Eliph may be part of the Stahlian royal guard, but he’s no strategist. I do not know Kalikil well, but he seems to be the one in charge of their part of the operation.” Esesra agreed.

“What if neither wants the Trellyxian throne? What if they’re in lot with a few other ill-willing people who could take the thrones of all three countries?” Timothy threw out.

“You mean, ‘I’ll help you with your problem and you’ll help me with mine’?” suggested Bolic.

“Exactly!”

“They must have set their sights on either Ishilm or Stahl,” Esesra surmised. “Maybe not for themselves directly, but they could pull the strings of a puppet.”

“But why the wedding in Trellyx if the Trellyxian throne is not the goal?” Bolic asked.

“The wedding festivities would be a great cover-up and distraction. It would also make Trellyx look the aggressor if Stahl’s and Ishilm’s royalty died on Trellyxian ground; it throws suspicion from anyone related to either of those countries,” Esesra and Timothy offered near word-for-word simultaneously. 

“Unless…” Esesra had a thought. “‘Monstrous…’” she repeated Timothy’s word from earlier. There was a long pause while she thought and both men were silent in waiting. “What if the Treallic family is a target too? What if the conspirators are targeting all three royal families?”

“All three are targets and distractions and dead ends at the same time,” surmised Timothy.

“That would be utter chaos,” Bolic offered in horrified reverence.

“And with that introduction, I had a secretary do some digging,” Timothy started.

“You and your digging,” Esesra muttered. 

The merchant’s mouth turned up wryly. “Yes, me and my digging. As I was saying; in the event that the obvious rulers were removed from the picture, I discovered who would inherit the thrones. If the Treallic royal family line is cut off, the king’s chief advisor assumes stewardship until a successor is chosen. Anyone with extensive military, court, and political background may campaign for the throne. They must be over forty years of age and have a male offspring of kingship caliber. All candidates must be approved by Delma Amia and his second, Gerard, the chief advisor, his second, and all seven of the board of advisors and their second advisors. The pool would be narrowed to two or three candidates and then put to an anonymous vote between Delma, the chief advisor, and the Voli’yiir. 

“In Ishilm, there is a family with distant ties to the royal family. Their existence, and claim to the throne, is kept a secret for their safety. The eldest son, Leto Sheck, is thirty-one, and is the most likely to be allowed a claim to the throne. He has three younger brothers; any of these four would have to be approved by the Assembly of Three, the king’s top three advisors. 

“Stahl, on the other hand, would pick from its top three military leaders as long as they were either married with children, or soon to wed.”

“There are any number of people that could get the throne in Trellyx and Stahl, and this Leto Sheck in Ishilm could be the main conspirator, or he is a puppet, knowingly or not, to someone else!” Bolic bellowed.

“There are too many rabbit paths and not enough road signs to point to a real culprit,” Timothy tried to sooth Bolic. 

“Nothing catastrophic has happened here to stop the wedding. This has been a long and trying day for all of us. Let’s try to sleep tonight and reconvene with fresh minds tomorrow after breakfast,” Esesra offered.

The men nodded and the three bid each other goodnight. Timothy and Bolic left Esesra’s chambers and she hid her notes in a locked drawer in her sleeping room. All three struggled to sleep that night with the terrifying news in their minds of a possible three-country plot to overthrow the royalty of those countries.


	15. Chapter XV

Chapter XV

They met just outside of the secondary dining hall; the several entrances and exits mostly covered by Trellyxian guards. Gerard, Delma Amia’s right hand man, met with them as well. Esesra had managed to get a message for Gerard to meet with them for the update via Lunette.

“It sounds to me that whatever the pivotal point in the conspiracy plan is, it culminates in the wedding tomorrow,” Gerard theorized. 

“That would make sense,” Timothy continued the train of thought, “The royal line from three countries are here together.” 

“And nothing has happened here to postpone the wedding,” Esesra finished.

“The remaining royals are all seated together at the Head Table for the wedding,” Gerard informed them. “There will of course be guards all around the Great Hall, not to mention the Voli’yiir and Valen present.”

“What about Knight Esesra?” Bolic asked. “I understand you are assisting with the wedding plans and a personal friend of Princess Airja. Where will you be during the wedding?”

She shook her head. “As I am Airja’s closest friend and a part of her wedding attendants, tomorrow I will be Lady Esesra. I will, however, have a knife strapped to my leg beneath my skirts. I will be seated a few paces away from the head table. Both of Prince Brune’s attendants, as Bolic and the Prince himself have told me, are his closest friend and elder brother. Both are skilled swordsman. The Head Table is well-guarded.”

Gerard and Bolic nodded. Timothy was playing thoughtfully with his braid. “What is it?” Bolic asked. The Stahlian courier had learned the Asturian merchant’s habits over the last few weeks.

“Why Trellyx? Why the wedding?”

“We agreed upon this last night,” Esesra reminded him. “You answered the question with me. The wedding party is the perfect cover up. As the deaths happen on Trellyxian soil, Trellyx will be blamed for the deaths of the other royals.”

“But not if the other two royals are dead as well,” Timothy poked a hole in their theory.

The other three blinked. “You’re right,” Bolic conceded.

They thought for a few moments. 

Timothy spoke first, “I think what the conspirators are after is the mass confusion and the pointing of fingers… but mostly the mass confusion. If all three royal families are dead, there won’t be so much pointing of fingers at the countries as there will be searching for the culprits.”

“Perhaps they’re hoping that the deaths outside of the country won’t be connected? That the countries will be divided in their search for the assassins?” Bolic supplied.

“That would make more sense,” Gerard spoke.

Esesra rubbed her temples. “I can’t believe Father does this for a living… This is too much speculation and too little fact.”

“As much as I despise it, Esesra is correct. Currently there is no evidence that there is even an attack on the Trellyxian throne. Let us disperse. There is nothing left to discuss until something else happens,” Bolic agreed.

“Let us pray on the Dragons that nothing disastrous happens to bring us back for such a discussion,” Timothy hoped.

Esesra heard the merchant muttering “monument” and “monstrous” to himself as they left.

~*~ 

Her mind tingled as she woke up early in her partially familiar palace bedchambers. She pushed away the blanket and began to prepare for the big day. Conspiracy theories and assassination attempts played out and ran in circles around her mind. She attempted to ignore them as she plowed through her morning.

The wedding would take place a few hours before dinner, which would take place after the ceremony. Guests from all three countries as well as royalty from around Gaea would begin filling the courtyard and balconies as early as two hours before the wedding even began.

Esesra ate a late lunch in her office in a fog. Via their respective spy networks, they conveyed that nothing new had developed. Tabra, Eliph, and Kalikil were not watched every second, much as the palace staff tried. 

Esesra sipped her wine and told herself not to think about anything for five minutes.

An hour after her meal, she made her way to the princess’ quarters. The next two hours found herself, Princess Airja and Princess (Queen) Lynores poked and prodded by pins and needles as their tailors finished the final adjustments on their clothes and put up their hair. The tailors squawked at Esesra’s insistence that the short knife was not going to be removed.

Preparations finally finished, the women entered the waiting room several paces from the main balcony. All of the doors were left open so that everyone could hear the priest’s words. Prince Brune and his attendants were in the room across the hall. The doors were misaligned; therefore Airja and Brune couldn’t see each other yet. 

Everyone was fidgety and tension prickled at Esesra’s neck. Prince Brune was called to the balcony. Esesra moved so that she could see the three men. They exited their room. Brune was nervous too – but everything was fine so far. Esesra half-listened to the priest rattle on about oaths and the joining of hands and countries for a good fifteen minutes. Then Airja was called out. 

Princess (Queen) Lynores gave her sister one last hug and all three women left the room. They escorted Airja to the balcony, where they delivered her to her almost-husband. Prince Brune’s attendants rose from where they had been kneeling behind him. They two men left the balcony, Lynores and Esesra followed right behind them. The four attendants stationed themselves just inside the hall, Lynores and Brune’s brother closest to the door. 

‘Two hours of getting poked and prodded at by the tailors earlier, not to mention the weeks spent creating and fitting the dress. The masses only see me for a miet, even if at all. As it should be, their attention is fully on Airja. I’ll hate it even worse when it comes to dinner time.’

The vows between Airja and Prince Brune had hardly begun when Esesra caught sight of someone at the very back of the crowded courtyard get up and leave. She squinted. ‘That couldn’t possibly be Hoel Corbin, could it?’ Her gut told her it was. She informed Lynores, making sure the men across the hall could overhear her, that she had to ‘use the facilities.’ Silently she left the hall and made her way to the dungeons. Her instincts told her that Hoel was going to meet his brother Darian. 

Along the way Esesra tucked her skirts into the dress’ belt. She wished for her uniform and boots. Damned be the man that designed women’s shoes. She passed a suit of armor and pried the sword from its grasp. It was heavier than her custom made sword, but any sword was better than her small knife.

Ten minutes later Esesra was in the lower levels of the palace. A few more minutes would find her in Darian’s cell’s hallway. She heard breathing coming around the corner ahead of her. Esesra stopped, sword at the ready. She waited a few paces from the next hall for the person to appear. 

“Bolic?”

The Stahlian turned at his name. “Esesra. I saw the Corbin boy leave the courtyard. I recognized him from the portrait you showed me all those weeks ago. My instinct said he was involved and to follow him. Yours as well?”

She nodded. “Shall we?” She pointed to the next hall over. It led to Darian’s cell.

“We shall.”

They proceeded down the hall towards Darian’s cell.

Gerard had spared only two Valen to guard Darian’s hallway, one at the cell and one at the halls’ entrance. That Valen was currently sprawled out on the floor, a nasty bruise forming on the back of his head. His keys were missing. 

“The Corbin boy must have ambushed him!” Bolic exclaimed.

Esesra nodded as she examined the torch on the wall nearby.”

“What are you looking for?”

“The palace’s alert system. There are lines that go from here to Father’s palace office, the throne room, the king’s private study, and the main courtyard. None of them have been lit.”

“Surely Hoel does not know of them?”

Esesra shook her head. 

“Must we light it? Wouldn’t it disrupt the wedding ceremony?”

“I was debating that. All of the royals are significantly guarded. I’m sure the two of us can handle the Corbin brothers. I don’t think we need to interrupt the wedding either.”

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

The two rounded the corner to see Darian out of his cell and Hoel handing him a sword, the second Valen lying much like his brethren upon the floor. “Halt!” Bolic and Esesra yelled. Darian nearly dropped his newly-acquired sword in surprise. “Is that…?” Darian asked Hoel, who nodded. “Amia whore!” he spat.

Esesra let the insult roll off her. She and Bolic charged. They met the Corbin brothers in the middle of the hallway, the sound of their swords meeting echoing along the long hall. Bolic shouted questions at Hoel as the pair fought. “Who are you working with? For? Who is attacking the Stahlian royal throne? Answer me, boy! Answer, and maybe the king will let you keep your head!”

Esesra focused on Darian and his reckless striking. His prison sentence meant that he was weak. However, he had anger and revenge on his side to fuel him. He was still far too reckless. She had beat him once and now with five years of experience behind her, she would defeat him again. 

She was having difficulties with her sword and dress, though. The sword’s weight was throwing her off and her heavy, long skirts were hampering her movements. The small dungeon hallway was a hindrance to all four warriors. 

Esesra narrowly missed slicing of Darian’s hand. 

“Don’t touch my brother!”

“Knife!”

At Bolic’s warning, Esesra barely managed to duck and dodge Hoel’s thrown knife. She hadn’t known that the younger Corbin brother had taken up knife throwing. The small weapon clattered against the wall and fell to the floor. 

Bolic stumbled. Esesra leapt away from Darian to protect the Stahlian, pushing the elder Corbin brother off balance as she went. 

“You won’t beat us,” Hoel spat as he clashed swords with Esesra. 

She checked that Bolic was up before bothering to respond. “I defeated you many times in our childhood. I defeated you in the tournament. I fight for the Royal Families. I will defeat you again this day!”

She saw Hoel spin and reach into his shirt.

“Knife!” It was her turn to yell the warning. 

It came a miet too late. 

Bolic caught Darian’s upper calf, slicing the main muscle. Darian went down, no longer able to stand. Bolic jerked away at Esesra’s warning. The knife, longer than its previous brother, lodged itself deeply into the Stahlian’s side. Bolic grunted in pain and fell, the end of his sword piercing Darian as man and weapon tumbled to the floor. Darian screamed in agony; the sword had just barely missed his heart and slid clean through him. 

“No! Brother!”

“Bolic!”

Tears streaming down his face, Hoel turned on his heal and ran down the hallway. Esesra rushed to Bolic’s side. The Stahlian’s eyes were glazed over in pain. “Bolic! Get up!”

He shook his head feebly. “Go after the ruffian; save the… Royal Family.”

“But you’ll bleed to death without help!”

“S-stop Corbin. I don’t matter.”

“I will. You won’t die without honor.” Esesra rose. “You do matter.” She turned and hurried after Hoel.

Either she or Bolic had injured him; the younger Corbin left a bloodied trail for Esesra to follow. She caught up with him on the main floor at the rear of the palace. Hoel was heading for the exit. He turned and faced Esesra, flying her. “Darian wasn’t to die! It wasn’t to happen like this!” He nearly skewered Esesra’s shoulder. 

“How was it to go?” she asked, blocking his attack.

“Not like this! Darian’s dead!”

“Hoel, were you part of the kidnapping attempt?” No evidence had been found to connect Hoel to the situation XX years ago. Few had known of the incident, even fewer knew the names of those who had committed the crime. The king had kept it a secret, sheltering the Corbin family from unnecessary retaliation. 

“No! They should have asked me! I would have made Darian leave you!”

“‘They’? Lisabeth didn’t tell you either?” ‘What does she have to do with it?’

Hoel’s face contorted and more tears wound down his face.

‘He loved her too!’

“She still wanted to marry the bastard. Planned his escape! I helped the whore, what little I dared. She still never saw me!”

“Hoel! Give me information, give me names! Regain some honor, redeem yourself, save your family’s name!”

They neared the stairs where Esesra could see two horses outside. 

“We were going to met up with Lisabeth. They were going to get married.”

Not paying attention, Hoel tripped and tumbled down the stairs. 

“Hoel!”

Esesra tore down the stairs. Hoel had landed no his sword, the weapon slicing his wind pipe open. 

“Th-they will drink and d-die. E-Eliph. Kalikil. Ki-Kither Sh-Scheck.” Blood bubbled from his neck and mouth. Hoel’s eyes went vacant and his head rolled to the side. 

It took Esesra several miets, time she did not have, to swallow the sight of blood before her. 

‘They will drink and die.’

Blood flowed in rivulets from his neck and body to pool beneath him on the ground. 

Many thousands of years ago, near Trellyx’s beginning, the first alliance was a marriage between Trellyx and Jemric. A tradition began. Marriage between Trellyxian royalty and that of another nation would thereafter have wine drunk by the marriage couple and all family members. Not only did this symbolize unity of the couple, but their family and nations as well. The wine itself was also a testament to those who had shed their blood in the war, as well as any in the future who gave their life in service to their country. 

‘They will drink and die.’

Esesra sprinted through the palace as fast as she could.

The union wine was poisoned. 

Lynores and Airja.

King Garath and Queen Xavia.

Little Ardel.

The families. 

Their countries.

Esesra burst into the main entrance hall. Two low-ranking guards were lazily milling about the archway. They snapped to attention. “Quick! One of you go to the kitchens and have **sealed** Trellyxian wine brought to the ceremony balcony and find a goblet! The other, go to Gerard and tell him to arrest Eliph and Kalikil! Do it now!” 

Whether it was her antique sword, her torn and bloodied dress, or her authoritative Amia voice, Esesra didn’t know. Neither guard questioned her. Both sprinted in opposite directions, running as if Draconians were chasing them. 

Esesra continued her mad charge back to the wedding; she burst into the hall leading to the royal balcony. Lynores and the two men at the other end were too focused on the ceremony to hear her. She rushed to them. 

“Esesra, where have you been?” Lynores whispered over her shoulder. 

Only one of Prince’s Brune’s attendants, the friend, could see her. His eyes widened in – rage? – at the sight of her.

Breathless, Esesra wheezed out quietly, “Have they had the wine?”

“No, you haven’t missed that yet,” Prince Marlon tossed over his shoulder. 

“Get Captain Illenth in here, now! They mustn’t drink the union wine!”

“It is not as if it is poisoned,” Torq chuckled at what he thought was humorous.

Lynores and Prince Marlon glared at him. 

“It is! Esesra insisted.

Lynores’ eyes widened. She moved to call Voli’yiir Captain Illenth, standing on the balcony as a witness, to take away the wine. 

Torq’s eyes flashed and his hands twitched, but he didn’t move. Esesra was the only one who saw. Prince Marlon was intently watching Lynores speak in hushed tones with Captain Illenth. 

Esesra turned as one of the guards she’d ordered earlier huffed into the hallway. He carried with him a goblet and a bottle of wine. Torq’s frown deepened. 

Captain Illenth subtly shifted the Narge golden goblet filled with the ceremonial wine behind his back so that Lynores could exchange it with the new goblet and wine from the kitchens. 

Esesra could have kissed the man; she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Esesra, what in Teradosq’s name was that all about?” Lynores asked as Captain Illenth moved to place the new goblet onto the pedestal. She gasped, finally focusing on her friend and the state of Esesra’s dress. “By the gods, what happened?”

“Yes, do tell us what transpired since you saw Hoel Corbin leave and left yourself?”

Lynores’ eyes shot to Torq. “Corbin? What do you now of the Corbin family?”

Torq realized his mistake and attempted to run. Prince Marlon was on him in an instant. The guard looked terribly confused. Prince Marlon did not give Torq time to draw before he had the other man pinned between the wall and his Stahlian royal sword. “Guard, place this man under arrest and escort him to the darkest cell Trellyx has!” To Torq, he spat through gritted teeth, “We trusted you like a brother!”

The guard took Torq’s sword and hauled him away. Torq spewed curses until they rounded the corner. Prince Marlon took several deep, calming breaths. 

Esesra cleared her throat. “The priest is calling for family members to present themselves.”

~*~

Torq’s absence from the wedding dinner and over the next eight weeks was explained as illness. That was how long it took all parties involved to discover the truth: three weeks. Between traveling, discovering, and as necessary, torturing conspirators and assassins, the full story was emerging. 

Esesra waited near the main entrance of the Councilor’s Hall, nervously playing with her hands. In light of her central role in the investigation, the king had appointed her in charge of collecting, collating, and presenting the conspiracy. Her father’s health had improved and they handled the matter together. 

The three countries were gathered together to hear their report. Danal and Lynores for Ishilm, King Stahl and his sons, Princes Marlon and Brune for Stahl, and King Garath and Prince Zatl for Trellyx. Each royalty also had at least three councilors or advisors with them. Her father, Captain Illenth, and the king’s Head Advisor were present for Trellyx. Gerard and Timothy Delveny were also in the room, seated at the end of the long table near her and the doors.

The last attendees entered the room and were seated. The doors were closed and King Garath asked for silence. Esesra was given the floor; Timothy gave her an encouraging smile.

Esesra cleared her throat and began. “Six years ago, a Trellyxian by the name of Darian Corbin, with the help of his fiancé, handmaiden Lisabeth Tulloch, along with four males, attempted to kidnap Princesses Lynores and Airja Treallic. They were thwarted, caught, and all but Lisabeth thrown into prison for life. Whether they were working for someone or on their own has yet to be determined. 

“Three years ago, Eliph and Kalikil of Stahl met. Both knew their ancestral ties to Symoin, a Trellyxian prince who attempted to murder his entire family and more in an attempt to claim the throne about five hundred years ago. With Stahl’s permission, Trellyx has been keeping tabs on both men. For the past three years, they have been plotting to put a mutual friend’s son on the Stahlian throne. He would have been a puppet king; Eliph and Kalikil would have become the Guard-Captain and High Advisor, respectively.

Kalikil was the mastermind of the operation. Their puppet king would a legitimate claim to the throne: Del Cinn, King Doai Stah’s first cousin’s son. Del Cinn was completely unaware of the plot.

“Eliph also has roots in Ishilm and therefore had been keeping an eye on that country as well. He knew that last year, thirteen-year-old Kither Scheck learned of his family’s station and importance. Eliph’s spies reported the greed in Kither’s eyes. Eliph asked Kalikil if there was anything they could to do aid an ambitious young man like themselves. Kalikil agreed; he would remove King Claisnet and Crown Prince Danal Ishi if Kither would remove his elder brother Leto Sheck. The catastrophe in Ishilm would be a distraction from their goings-on in Stahl. 

“The last part of their plot consisted of killing the entire Treallic Royal Family. It was to by Symoin’s great revenge. They would attempt to influence the chosen replacement if possible. There were far too many hindrances in Trellyx for Eliph and Kalikil to claim any sort of power or hold in Trellyx. 

“Their method chosen to eliminate the Royal Households was simple: the union wine for Prince Brune’s and Princess Airja’s wedding. The entire Royal Houses would drink the wine. This would thus – eliminate – King and Queen Stah, Crown Prince Marlon, his wife and son, and Prince Brune and his fiancé Princess Airja Treallic. King and Queen Treallic and their son Crown Prince Zatl were also to drink the ceremonial wine, thus eliminating the Treallic line. As Princess Airja’s sister, Princess Lynores Ishi née Treallic and her husband, Crown Prince Danal Ishi and their son Ardel Ishi would also perish. 

“King Claisnet and Prince Rafe Ishi were murdered on home soil. The murders were covered up and the Ishilmanite government is looking into the murders based on – my – research into the matter here. 

“Between age, gender, heritage, and food consumed, each Royal would fall at a different time due to the affects of the poison in the union wine. No one would suspect the ceremonial wine. Stahl would provide the wine, giving Kalikil ample opportunity to poison it via his extensive network.

“Upon arrival at the Trellyxian castle before the wedding, Eliph and Kalikil found it nearly impossible to meet. With little digging, they found Hoel Corbin, desiring his elder brother’s freedom, and handmaiden Tabra Nevra née Tulloch, married elder sister of Lisabeth Tulloch, also a handmaiden. With little pressure, Kalikil through Eliph offered to help spring Darian from prison. All Tabra Nevra had to do was show Eliph a few secret passages. 

“Let this council recognize the following four people and their networks for their contribution to foiling the assassination conspiracy: Bolic Nulstrin of Stahl, courier, who died honorably for his country. Timothy Delveny of Asturian, merchant. Gerard T’lank of Trellyx, Voli’yiir and second to Lord Delma Amia, Captain of the Guard.”

Here Esesra paused and blushed. 

“Esesra Amia of Trellyx; knight, lady, head handmaiden and personal guard to Crown Prince Zatl and Princess Airja Stah née Treallic.”

She bowed to the room and sat with Timothy Delveny and Gerard at the end.

Everyone in the room sat silently, stunned. One of Ishilm’s advisors rose and began to clap. The rest of the table joined in the applause, acknowledging Esesra, Timothy, and Gerard.

A few moments later, Esesra stood and said “For Bolic!”

“For Bolic!!” the room echoed, all of them standing. 

~*~

A few days later, a banquet was held in honor of the three heroes. The assassination conspiracy was kept hidden, but everyone knew that something had happened, someone died, and something had been prevented. The head royalties of Stahl and Ishilm returned for the celebration. At the end, King Garath gave out medals and speeches to the three remaining heroes. 

“For services to the Crown and Country, Trellyx recognizes Gerard T’lank, Timothy Delveny of Asturia, and Esesra Amia. 

“For assisting in the discovery and capture of threats not only to the Trellyxian Royal House but the Stahlian and Ishilmanite Houses as well, Trellyx recognizes Sir Knight Gerard T’lank, Second Captain, and presents to him the title of lord and all privileges entailed. Lord Gerard will receive land on K’Sheid’s western border. His immediate family and his direct descendants shall hereafter be treated as nobility. 

“For risking his life and person to gather secret information to aid a country not his own, Trellyx recognizes Asturian Merchant Timothy Delveny and presents him with honorary citizenship and all privileges entailed. 

“For courage in the face of danger, for valor in the lack of experience and training despite gender and lack of forewarning, and for sheer will-power and thoughtfulness in Trellyx’s time of greatest need, Trellyx recognizes Knight Lady Esesra Amia and presents to her the position of Second Captain. 

“Knight Lady Esesra is to compliment Lord Knight Gerard. She will answer only to Lord Delma Amia, Captain of the Guard, and the Crown. 

“We also wish to bear testament to Bolic Nulstrin, Stahlian courier who gave his life in service to not only the Crown of Stahl, but to Ishilm and Trellyx as well. May his spirit be twice-blessed in Paradise. 

“The Crowns of Trellyx, Stahl, and Ishilm will forever be in the debt of these three recognized today. May Teradosq bless them with long lives, health, and prosperity.”

The crowd of Trellyxians in the palace’s main courtyard exploded with applause. 

After the king’s speech, in the hall from the main royal balcony, Esesra, Timothy and Gerard made their way to the royal dining room. “Well!” Timothy clapped Esesra and Gerard on their backs. “I’d say we did something worth mentioning and celebrating!” The Asturian merchant leaned forward and slipped his arms around his fellow heroes.

Gerard half-heartedly tried to shrug the other man off. “Is he always like this?”

Esesra chuckled and nodded. “One becomes accustomed to Merchant Delveny’s eccentrics over time.”


	16. Chapter XVI

Chapter XVI 

Early fall found twenty-year-old Esesra tagging along with the last of the Treallic (unmarried) royal. Princess Eries Aston of Asturia was at the top of King Gareth’s “suggestion” list. Everyone knew that Eries would become the next queen of Asturia, not Trellyx. King Aston had agreed to the visit for the same reason King Gareth had suggested it: to strengthen their alliance and to get a feel of what their children was looking for in a spouse. Besides, the eldest Aston, Princess Marlene, had just married the Duke of Freid less than a year ago; King Aston was not about to ‘lose’ another daughter quite so swiftly. 

Esesra had taken an instant liking to the second-born Asturian Princess. She looked much like her sister Marlene and once again Esesra felt the mythical bond between Trellyx and Asturia. Whereas Princess Marlene had radiated beauty, Princess Eries’ was subtle and refined. She wore a high-collared, sleeved dress and exquisite gold earcuffs; quite the opposite manner of dress than that of her elder sister.

While a traditionalist, the middle Asturian princess had taken an interest in how her father managed their country. Princess Eries had taken interest in the council at fourteen and her father had given her a seat on the council at fifteen. Esesra (and Prince Zatl) learned that Princess Eries was well-read in politics, court etiquette, psychology, and law. Princess Eries even requested that Esesra join their many discussions. 

~*~ 

Sixteen-year-old Princess Calist Keram of Ker was a _brat_. A whiny, clingy, spoiled _brat_. Esesra had felt intense dislike for her the second she had stepped through the throne room doors. She had her nose up and her face told everyone that she smelled something awful. 

Princess Calist was constantly complaining about Trellyx’s weather and her food. She whined whenever she saw anything that was different from Ker or was remotely displeasing to her. She clung to Prince Zatl anytime they were in the same room and she was never seen without her four guards and six catty handmaidens.

The knight lady found it immensely hard to keep her face respectful instead of aggravated. Esesra felt great pity for whatever poor man was doomed to marry her. 

“I heard she’s part-hyena on her mother’s side a few generations back; that explains her horrid ‘laugh,’’ Timothy Delveny joked.

Esesra tried to contain her laughter; she was in uniform and an easily-recognized royal attendant. She had a reputation to preserve and another to protect. They were in the booth that had become “theirs” at _Cordiella’s_ sometime over the years. Esesra preferred _Cordiella’s_ to _Nelgen’s_. If he wanted a dinner partner, Timothy complied. 

~*~

 _‘What was Councilor Raark thinking when he asked me to hear the merchantile reports?! I’m a knight, not a scribe. And I most certainly am not a cover for him to meet his “secret” mistress!’_ Esesra mentally grumbled. She furiously scribbled notes as the fruit merchant from Basram finished his presentation. She hoped she’d be able to read her notes later in order to give Councilor Raark a clear, readable report.

The merchant finished speaking and Esesra jotted down his last sentences. “Is that all?” she asked. 

“There is one more item. No not look so crestfallen, Knight Lady! This item of business is more… personal. Basram heard of Treallyx’s… plight all those months ago. My faction of the union would like to aid you, and receive aid in return, in keeping an eye on the goings on of our countries.”

Esesra smiled. Building her and her father’s spy network was far more enjoyable than stupid numbers and fruit. She pulled out fresh paper. 

~*~

“Essie, these weekly meetings are far too much fun to be spy meetings!” Londa giggled. Sabine and Chandra laughed their agreement. 

Esesra rolled her eyes. 

“As she says each week, ‘You girls just use it as another opportunity to gossip,’” Lunette defended. 

“But she _wants_ us to gossip! Isn’t that right, Essie?”

“Jadyle, I repeat myself at each meeting. I want to know if you ladies have heard anything interesting _pertaining to the welfare of Trellyx._ Don’t call me Essie.”

“But Knight Lady Esesra also knows that we elder handmaidens don’t hear the same juicy tidbits you younger girls do. We enjoy these tea parties; they make us feel younger,” Sabine, one of the queen’s handmaidens, stated. 

Under her breath for the million and first time, Esesra mumbled, “They’re not tea parties.”

Everyone else in the room completely disagreed. 

~*~

Timothy Delveny repeated the name. “Ah, yes; he did introduce himself. I am thoroughly honored, Lady Knight, that you mentioned me to him. Have you thought anymore about visiting me in Asturia and attending _Mermaid Lagoons_ with me?”

“Remind me again why you think I should go.”

“The drama! The history! The V’nim acting troop has the best stage fighting. And my parents will be in attendance; they want to meet you, my little sister as well.”

“You’re going to keep badgering me until I say ‘yes,’ aren’t you?”

“You know me only too well, Lady Knight.”

“When is it? As long as it doesn’t interfere with Prince Zatl’s search for a wife,” Esesra finally gave in.

~*~

The second Kawynitt D’ladela of Daedalus was “alone” with Prince Zatl, she asked that everyone call her Kawyn. Esesra had kept a neutral opinion of the woman when she had first come through the throne room doors, bedecked in too many jewels and yards of fabric. Princess Kawyn surprised everyone when she arrived for her first outing wearing a common-style dress and plain earrings. The dress was still made of the finest of cloths and sewn with an expert hand, but it portrayed a simple woman with class.

By his wink to her in the throne room yesterday, Esesra knew that the king believed Princess Kawyn to be a good match for his son and country. After the first initial couple of awkward days, Prince Zatl and Princess Kawyn began to hit it off nicely. She was the eldest princess of Daedalus with two brothers above her and one sister below her and had taken an interest in the affairs of her country. She hadn’t joined the Council like Princess Eries Aston, but her father had allowed her to learn from and follow many royal advisors, merchants, and men of the law. 

Princess Kawyn was also interested in the advancement of women within the social structure. A fair amount of Princess Kawyn’s time was spent asking Esesra bout her adventures. Esesra found herself agreeing with King Garath on the match. 

Two months after Princess Kawyn’s first arrival, Esesra averted her gaze as the royal couple shared their first kiss. The pang in her heart was the same as when Prince Brune had proposed to Airja. Esesra was beginning to wonder what she was missing out on. 

~*~

“Not the best show we’ve seen, eh?”

Esesra absently shook her head ‘no.’ Her eyes followed a wagon bearing a couple out for the evening clattered by. 

“Not as good as _Flowers for You_ last month, for sure.”

Lost in thought, Esesra didn’t even respond.

“Hey, Gaea to Lady Knight!” Timothy raised the level of his voice. 

“Hm? Sorry.”

“You’re really far gone today. Thinking of wedding plans already?”

She shook her head. “Prince Zatl won’t be proposing for another month or two yet. And I won’t be helping near as much with this wedding as I did Lynores’ and Airja’s weddings.”

“So if you’re not planning another Treallic wedding and you haven’t mentioned any assassination plots, what are you thinking about?”

Esesra turned her head away, trying to hide the blush attempting to color her cheeks. “It’s… a personal matter.”

They walked in silence for several minutes, Esesra hesitant to reveal her heart and Timothy unwilling to pry. The gates of the castle’s main courtyard loomed into view. Sensing a private conversation coming, Timothy subtly changed course for a less popular side gate. Lost in thought, Esesra followed. 

“It’s just…” she began, then faltered. _‘Doesn’t this sort of conversation take place with my giggling handmaidens? But Timothy Delveny understands my views…’_

Timothy nodded encouragingly. 

“I watched Lynores and King Danal, Airja and Prince Brune get married, and now Prince Zatl and Princess Kawyn. And… I’m a little…jealous, I guess.”

A long pause ensued in which Esesra didn’t look at the merchant.

“You’re wondering if you traded knighthood for wifehood and motherhood; a sword for a homelife with a good man.”

“Yes.”

Another long pause.

“What if I missed my chance to at courtship? Marriage and children?” Esesra asked. More quietly, she continued, “What if I’ve missed my chance for love?”

Timothy felt something stir in his soul. He pushed it away and focused on his friend in her personal hour of need as his top priority. She had already done so much for others. 

“I’m nearing my twenty-third year. If I was an ordinary Gaean woman of high society, I would have been married with at least two children by now. I… I’m practically an old maid now. I doubt there’s a record of any woman on Gaea who married after twenty-three years of age.”

The stir in Timothy’s soul tugged at his heart. “But you aren’t an ordinary Gaean socialite woman, Esesra. If you were, the princesses would have been kidnapped all those years ago. And if the Guard had managed to retrieve them, they would have died at Princess Airja’s wedding, along with their parents, husbands, little Ardel and the King and Queen of Stahl. They’d all be dead and the three countries would have gone through turmoil only to have unjust rulers.

“You aren’t ordinary because you’re – ” Timothy sucked in a breath as his mind clicked with his heart and soul. “You’re extraordinary.”

Timothy pulled Esesra to him. Her world tilted as his head bent to hers. Through a haze of confusion, Esesra realized that the merchant was kissing her. 

Her eyes fluttered closed. 

**Slam!** “Merchant Delveny! I’m so glad I found you!” A man wearing Asturian merchant robes burst through the door several paces from them. Timothy turned to his right hand man as Esesra took a step back in shocked surprise. “I’ve had the guards searching everywhere for you! I was lucky the watchman saw you turn this way.”

“What is it Matthias?”

“There’s been a fire at the warehouse! Several men and your brother are trapped inside! There’s a carriage waiting in the courtyard.”Matthias turned and ran back through the door.

Timothy turned back to Esesra. “I – ”

“Go. Take care of Neith and your men.”

He nodded solemnly. “I’ll write, as soon as I can.” He turned and dashed after Matthias. 

Esesra watched him go. She touched the fingertips of one hand to her lips. _‘He kissed me… Timothy Delveny kissed me…’_ She slowly made her way to her office. _‘My first kiss. From Timothy Delveny, Merchant of Asturia.’_

Four months came and went. Esesra turned twenty-four. Prince Zatl proposed to Princess Kawyn. Her father received word that Ziaback was mining drag-energists. 

No word came from Timothy Delveny.

Esesra’s heart broke each time Prince Zatl and Princess Kawyn kissed. She tried to keep her mind away from her first kiss, but the memory would flood her mind. _‘What could possibly be keeping him?’_

She had heard about the fire. One of the Delveny storehouses had caught fire, men trapped inside. Some had died; Neith had survived but badly injured. Timothy Delveny had whisked his brother home to Asturia, to their family. Esesra hoped all was well.

~*~

Esesra met with Aeli after he was finished giving his merchant report. The Alorian had become a good friend over the years. He had wept for joy a year ago when he passed on the announcement that Mishka had found a wife. Today, however, the usual sparkle in his eyes was absent. “Mishka believes that the darkness is looming very close upon Gaea.”

“Father’s spies have told him that Ziaback is mining more drag-energists than necessary.”

“We are near war, then.”

“Possibly. Of course, King Garath hopes not. But life is reality, not fantasy. Father is subtly increasing the size of Trellyx’s army.”

“It seems that your Teradosq has granted Trellyx some foresight.”

Esesra nodded.

Both prayed that the possible on coming war could be averted. 

~*~

She finally received a letter from Timothy Delveny the next day. His scrawl was different than normal, Esesra noted. As if he had somehow forgotten how to hold a quill and use it to write. She tilted the parchment to better read his short letter. 

_Esesra, Lady Knight,  
I am terribly sorry I have not yet written. Neith is doing well. I am hoping to be in K’Shied two months after you receive this. I will speak with you soon._

Esesra almost doubted that Timothy Delveny had written this note. It was far too short compared to the rolls he usually wrote to her. Why had he scratched out the ‘terribly’? Why hadn’t he spoken more of Neith? The note lacked the merchant’s _flair_. More damningly, why hadn’t he said why he had taken so long to write to her? 

The signature at the bottom barely passed as his. 

She was getting a headache. Esesra doubted anyone had forged the letter. They had failed spectacularly. She was also sure that Timothy hadn’t told anyone about their ‘romantic encounter.’ If such gossip existed with Esesra in the middle of it, her handmaidens would have pounced the second it reached their ears. 

She would just have to wait two more months. 

~*~

Timothy asked her to meet him at ‘their’ booth in _Cordiella’s_ for dinner. The merchant had asked her to meet him via a letter written by a paid scribe, she assumed as the handwriting again wasn’t his but much different that the last letter’s. Esesra crumpled it up and went to the kitchens to receive the satisfaction of burning it in the hottest fire she could find. 

Megera raised an eyebrow but Esesra ignored her. 

She arrived early at the restaurant that evening. Esesra surprised the waitress by ordering something a bit stronger than her usual, despite the fact she was in uniform. He was late. 

Timothy slid into the booth, posture shouting submission. He looked her dead in the eyes and said, “Before you say anything and let loose your woman-scorned wrath, let me apologize profusely and explain.”

Esesra folded her arms, eyes hard, but nodded. 

He drew in a breath. “I am terribly, horribly sorry that it took me so long to write and that my note was utter trenches. I burned my hands pulling Neith and another worker from the fire. I tried to have a scribe write something, but the words wouldn’t come. I didn’t want you to read my sentiments in another’s handwriting. And I was a bit embarrassed baring my soul to a stranger. So I waited for my hands to heal. As soon as I could write legibly again, I sent you that note. But even after extensive muscle therapy it hurt for me to write. 

“Father and Mother had a massive hissy fit over Neith and I getting injured. Neith is fine. But Father and Mother kept us home, even long after we had fully recovered. And I had to help Father with recovering the business after the fire. 

“But I couldn’t bear to have you hate me, or worse, reject me. I had a lot of time to think wandering around home while I recuperated. You have intrigued me since your coa nearly a decade ago. When we danced that night, you had such spirit! But I knew that I was too old; a young think like you was beyond my reach. 

“But then I met you again, as a testing for Princess Lynores’ taste in men. You had become a knight! I watched you grow into an extraordinary woman. I didn’t realize until the night of the fire that I had fallen in love with you. You were pouring your heart and soul out, worrying about your future, and it hit me. I saw us together for the rest of our lives. 

“And now I’m afraid my chance has slipped away; that I’ve lost you.”

Esesra’s eyes had softened throughout his story. “How could I not forgive you?” She blushed. “Over the years, you have become my closest friend. I… I don’t want you to disappear from my life. I don’t know… what I feel for you, but I cannot erase from my mind the feel of your lips against mine.” Her blush deepened. “My heart beats faster each time it crosses my mind. I’m… I’m willing to explore that emotion.”

The tension left Timothy and his entire body lit up with happiness. 

~*~

Six months went by. Little in their years-established routine changed. Sometimes Timothy held her hand or pecked her on the cheek. He kissed her twice more. They never displayed such affection in public. Esesra would get the gossip mill of a lifetime if anyone found out.

Just before Prince Zatl’s marriage to Princess Kawyn, Timothy formally requested permission from Delma and Chelsea Amia to court their daughter. They were taken completely by surprise but consented. 

Esesra turned twenty-five, a happy woman. Trellyx was at peace with itself and Mishka’s foreseen darkness had not yet erupted. Esesra finally found herself content and fully complete.

~*~

 ** _“What_** happened?!” Esesra knocked her chair over as she jumped to her feet. Zerrak of Basram stood before her in her office. 

“The rumors of a Mystic Moon inhabitant are true. I’ve seen her. She travels with Van Fanel, surviving king of destroyed Fanelia. The Ziabackeans had a large storehouse of drag-energists; they are preparing for _war._ King Van’s guymelef, the _Escaflowne_ , turned into a _dragon_ and as King Van neared the storehouse, the drag-energists within reacted to _Escaflowne_ ’s. The entire storehouse exploded and caused the ground to shake and crumble.”

Esesra righted her chair and sat in it, dazed. Mishka’s prophecy of darkness covering Gaea seemed to have finally come after five years. First Fanelia burning to the ground, then a red Ziabackean guymelef burns Asturia’s Palas harbor. Now an energist explosive. 

She whispered to herself in horror, “What if it could be repeated?” Then louder to Zerrak, “I must report this to my father. Please wait in your quarters until we send for you.”

~*~ 

“Zerrak left only hours after you informed me of the drag-energist explosion incident,” Delma informed Esesra later that evening. “I only hope that Basram does not do anything too drastic with the information.”

“We can’t hold him here?” she queried. 

Delma shook his head. “Zerrak is a spy for his own country than he is for Trellyx; as he should be. It would be a breach of treaty to detain him. We can only be thankful that he informed us of the situation.”

~*~

Timothy led Esesra down the winding path along the creek at the outskirts of K’Shied. They rarely walked the path, but both knew it well: they had come here after Timothy had received permission to court her. They were nearing their one year anniversary of courting. 

“Yes Esesra, I know you’re worried about an upcoming war. But as I’ve already told you, put it out of your mind for just a few hours. That’s what I made you were something other than your personal guard uniform. We – meaning you – are leaving our cares and concerns behind us for a picnic.”

Esesra huffed but let him have his way. War wasn’t quite yet upon them.

“Timothy, what’s this?” she asked an hour later. They had finished dessert, what else could possibly be left in the basket? 

“Oh damn, I nearly forgot about that! Give it here! Timothy swiped the small, cloth-covered box from her hands. With a flourish he pulled the cloth from the box, opened it, and bent down on one knee. “Esesra Klarita Amia, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

The box held a ring; a tiny green diamond winking up at her.


End file.
